


New Perspective

by ejejie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M, Who even knows when this takes place, anakin and obi wan switch bodies that's it that's the plot, body switching, cody is mostly just entertained as fuck, jfc I've never written a serious thing in my life, tfw a trio of psychic space wizards shares two brain cells and uses neither, the trio™ shenanigans, well it takes place during the clone wars but that's all I got
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejejie/pseuds/ejejie
Summary: Theoretically, Ahsoka knew it wasn’t funny. Not funny at all, in fact. It was in no way funny that her master’s consciousness was no longer in his body. It was not a good thing that Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, was currently the closest to a full-blown panic attack that she had ever seen him. It was not humorous in the slightest that she, in fact, was technically the cause of this—well, she hadn’t actually made it happen, she had just… pulled the trigger. Accidentally, of course.Still, the sight (and sense) of Anakin being in Master Kenobi’s body, alternating between hysterics and subtly checking himself out—holy Force above, she would never forget it.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 131
Kudos: 627





	1. Swapped

Theoretically, Ahsoka knew it wasn’t funny. Not funny at all, in fact. It was in no way funny that her master’s consciousness was no longer in his body. It was not a good thing that Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, was currently the closest to a full-blown panic attack that she had ever seen him. It was not humorous in the _slightest_ that she, in fact, was technically the cause of this—well, she hadn’t actually _made it happen_ , she had just… pulled the trigger. Accidentally, of course.

Still, the sight (and sense) of Anakin being in Master Kenobi’s body, alternating between hysterics and subtly checking himself out—holy Force above, she would never forget it.

Any (theoretical) attempt she may have made to stop herself from busting out laughing was not exactly helped by the _other_ sight (and sense) present: that of Master Kenobi, possessing Anakin, alternating between just as amused as she was, and vaguely horrified.

Anakin (Master Kenobi?) paced back and forth, the force of his footsteps great enough that the sound of them echoed roughly through the cavern. Master Kenobi, meanwhile, had perched himself high up on a boulder, sitting cross-legged as he leaned forward to brace himself on his elbows, fingers steepled as he frowned in thought. Force, seeing Anakin’s body like that was _weird_. Occasionally his eyes would flutter shut, as if he was trying to concentrate on something; then just when she thought he was in a meditative state, they would snap open again, tracing the back-and-forth path Anakin stomped along.

Admittedly, she hadn’t spent much time with him, at least not as much as Anakin seemed to, so she wasn’t as confident describing what Master Kenobi was like. Though to be fair to herself, _no one_ seemed to spend as much time with him as Anakin did. And between the two of her and Master Kenobi, she wasn’t even sure which of _them_ spent more time with Anakin.

Ahsoka pursed her lips, trying and failing to muffle her giggles; when Anakin whipped around, offended, she felt a spike of nervousness that _Master Kenobi_ of all people would look at her like that, never mind that it wasn’t actually him. Anakin crossed his arms, huffing. “I don’t see what’s so funny, _Snips_. We could be in serious trouble here!”

Ahsoka pushed down her nervousness, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m _sorry_ , okay? I already said I was, like a million times!”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “I thought you knew better than to, I don’t know, touch weird artifacts on important missions!”

“It was on accident!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well it’s not my fault you walk so slow! I was just trying to get around you!”

“Yeah, and you just so _happen_ to ‘bump’ something while you do. I _told you_ not to touch anything!”

“In her defense,” Master Kenobi murmured, interlocking Anakin’s fingers and resting Anakin’s chin on them serenely, and Force, she would never get used to that, “There was no way to know it would be there, or what it would do. We’d been looking for hours. In fact, if she hadn’t done that we may never have found it.”

Anakin whipped around, glaring. “Oh, so you’re taking _her_ side?”

Master Kenobi blinked his eyes open, coolly observing his former apprentice. “I seem to remember a certain rash young Padawan who did the exact same type of thing. Multiple times, in fact.”

“Wha- Okay, but it was never like-” Anakin gestured back and forth between himself and Master Kenobi, “-this! Aren’t you at least a _little_ freaked out!?”

Master Kenobi ignored the second question, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you’re right that it was never like _this_ , to be exact. This is a new one, even for me.” At Anakin’s triumphant look, his mouth twitched. “But I do remember a time when my Padawan said, and I quote, ‘what’s this’, and pulled a lever that released 10,000 hornets upon a highly important dinner party."

“You _remember that_? In my defense, there is no fucking reason for there to be a lever that releases 10,000 hornets.”

“There is on Xanthos. That was supposed to be dinner.” Master Kenobi had a far-off look in his adopted vessel’s eyes. “Actually, I have to thank you for that one. I’ve eaten hornets before, believe it or not. They aren’t my favorite.”

“I would eat hornets,” Ahsoka added helpfully. Master Kenobi tilted his head, amused.

“If you’re anything like your master, I’m sure you would.”

Anakin groaned, putting his head in his hands. “You both are unbelievable. That still doesn’t compare! I mean, how the hell was I supposed to expect that?”

“I also remember the six separate times you almost began a civil war-”

“Which were all _accidents_ -”

“Or the time you actually _did_ start a civil war, and Mace had to pretend to be my father for a week-”

“Also an accident-”

“Or what about the the time you nearly ran Yoda over-”

“ _Also_ an accident, though the troll had it coming-”

“ _Anakin_.”

“What!?”

“You’re missing the point, my friend.”

“You’re just listing off examples of me being stupid! How about the time you fell in two different gundark nests on the same mission?”

“Guys!” Ahsoka interjected; as bewildered (and more than a little intrigued) by the back-and-forth as she was, she didn’t really want to listen to it continue on for hours. “Please, I really am sorry, now can we all get along? We need to find a way out of here.”

Anakin rolled Master Kenobi’s eyes. “I don’t know. You sure you won’t get impatient and try to _slip past_ me again?”

“Oh come on!”

“Both of you. _Stop_.” Master Kenobi jumped down, landing in a crouch; he wobbled slightly as he stood, as if he wasn’t sure of what to do with the sudden addition to his height. “Ahsoka, your apology has been accepted. Anakin, you’re the one who brought her along, so I’m not sure why you’re so upset at her.”

“I _didn’t_ bring her along, she decided that herself!”

Ahsoka grit her teeth. “ _She_ is right here, and you totally needed backup! The last time you two went off in a cave alone, you got captured by Hondo. _Hondo_.”

“That wasn’t how it went down, Snips,” Anakin replied quickly. Master Kenobi found an interesting spot on the cavern floor to study.

“Yes, and I wouldn’t say...captured. More like, ‘rigorously pursued a lead on finding Dooku’.”

Anakin brightened. “Exactly! Thanks for chiming in this time.”

“Anything for you, my friend.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Riiiight,” she muttered, stretching out her senses. “I think there’s a way out that way.”

Master Kenobi frowned pensively. “I suppose there isn’t anything we can do about our predicament right now, is there? We have the artifact, but we don’t know how to switch back, or _why_ it switched us two and not Ahsoka.” Involuntarily, Ahsoka shuddered, suddenly thankful that she'd been spared.

“I was just gonna say that,” Anakin grumbled. “But we can’t just _leave_ , can we? We still have to fix this!”

Wordlessly, Ahsoka turned on a heel, trudging toward where the cave entrance should be.

Surprised, Obi-Wan huffed out a laugh, making to follow her. “Anakin,” he called over his shoulder, “There isn’t anything we can do. Your padawan has the right idea.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, falling into step beside Obi-Wan; when he realized he had to look up at Obi-Wan in his body, he sighed. “I was never this much of a brat at her age, was I?”

Obi-Wan didn’t justify that with an answer.

* * *

Rex blinked, suddenly grateful that he had decided earlier to put his helmet on (and therefore become capable of hiding any overly bewildered expressions that General Skywalker would poke fun at him for later). General Kenobi (Skywalker?) frowned.

“What, Rex?”

Rex felt himself twitch; such a casual address coming from General Kenobi’s mouth was vaguely terrifying. And, without a doubt, proof that Anakin was telling the truth, because often it seemed that General Kenobi thought Rex’s first name was Captain. Did that mean he thought _Rex_ was a surname? He _had_ called Rex ‘Captain Rex’ before, so clearly he was _aware_ of both forms of address. Mentally, Rex shrugged. Maybe he just had a thing about titles? He called Cody ‘Cody’ sometimes, though?

“..ex. _Rex_!”

“Uh- er, sorry, General…Skywalker, sir.” Rex trailed off, mentally wincing. General Skyalker-as-Kenobi sighed. Beside him, General Kenobi-as-Skywalker was leaned against a wall, staring wide-eyed at a spot on the opposite side of the shuttle; Rex took some comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one deeply unsettled by this whole situation. Even Ahsoka had seemed to think it was more funny than anything.

His own General tapped a foot impatiently, huffing in a distinctly non-Kenobi-like way. Rex shuddered.

“Look, we know. Can you just… cover for us, while we contact the Council again? We’d prefer to keep this on the down low.”

“I- yes, I can, but uh. Sirs… you realize you’ll have to come out eventually, right?”

Ahsoka hopped down from where she had sat herself, grinning. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” General Skywalker gave her a dirty look.

General Kenobi stood from where he had been leaning, opening his mouth to say something; but his attempt at gracefulness was quickly ruined when he stumbed forwards, nearly tripping and falling onto General Skywalker. Hastily, he righted himself, brushing off imaginary dust as if to pretend it never happened. Ahsoka flashed her teeth in a grin, and Anakin’s dirty look was soon joined by Kenobi’s.

Force, this was going to be a headache.

Rex sighed. “General Kenobi, sir?” Kenobi blinked, clasping his hands behind his back and flashing his own teeth in a smile.

“We’re aware, Rex. I’ve already contacted the Council to let them know of our… _situation_. However, considering how this may affect command, we’d rather keep the news as contained as possible—just keeping it between the four of us until we figure it out.” He frowned. “Well, actually, since we’ve already told you, we might as well tell Cody if you don’t mind…”

Rex nodded, distracted by the sight of Anakin plucking at his newfound beard, suddenly appearing _way_ more entertained than he ought to be. General Kenobi continued, occasionally flashing his teeth in a smile.

Unfortunately for Rex, while he knew that it was Kenobi in there, his brain still registered it as Anakin. Meaning, he reacted like it was _Anakin_ looking at him that way. Not in his usual confident grin, which Rex associated more with illegal activity than anything—no, he was smiling at him charmingly, mildly flirtatious in the way General Kenobi apparently just always was. Judging by the many, many occasions Cody had lamented to him about it.

(Apparently it tended to cause problems where they shouldn’t be).

Rex felt himself grow hot under the helmet, and okay, _that_ was not going to be good. How the _hell_ was he supposed to go walking around with an Anakin lookalike whose flirtation skills weren’t the bottom of the fucking barrel? It was already a struggle to act normal around him, he didn’t need extra prompting to act the fool in public.

And on top of that, watching their General try (and fail) to flirt was practically an initiation rite to the 501st. As a result, it was an endless source of amusement for the men that Rex had somehow let himself be seduced by _that_.Seriously, Rex could think of at least _three_ separate cringe compilations he’d seen—in the past month alone. _Then again_ , he thought, _the 212th never seems to get why it’s funny_.

Rex frowned, watching General Kenobi speak. _Maybe the 212th has the opposite problem_.

“…and that’s why we’re going to the bridge. Everything clear?”

Rex nodded again, having missed the entire thing. “I understand completely, sir.”

General Kenobi smiled again, melting Rex’s brain. “I knew we could count on you, Captain." Anakin snorted, and belatedly, Rex realized that he was probably broadcasting anxiety into the Force. Thankfully, however, General Kenobi seemed to think it was about the general weirdness of the predicament, and didn’t question him for any _other_ possible reasons he was trying to shield his thoughts.

* * *

Obi-Wan flexed his fingers, watching as the many facets of the mechanical arm slid carefully in and out of position. _Anakin really is a genius with these things_ , he thought, curiously flexing his fingers again. Beside him, he felt Rex twitch.

“Something wrong, Rex?” He asked, examining his wrist. Rex started, almost tripping.  
  
“Wha- no. Not at all. I am _good_ , sir, very good in fact.” Behind them, Ahsoka snickered, followed by a furious exchange of mutters with Anakin. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, furtively looking around the hangar to see if anyone was watching; thankfully, the clones all seemed occupied with one thing or another, occasionally waving in greeting.

There was no way his reputation would survive this ordeal, he thought grimly, looking back over his shoulder to glare. Anakin quickly withdrew his hands out of sight, from where he was not-so-subtly messing with Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. He smiled sheepishly, elbowing Ahsoka when she pointed to behind his back and mimed a twisting motion with her hands.

Obi-Wan sighed, for what felt like the millionth time that day. _It was only a matter of time before he forgave her._ “Ana- er, _Obi-Wan_?” He winced at using his own name.

Anakin tilted his head, the picture of innocence. “Yes? What is it…my dear padawan who I love most in the world?” Ahsoka choked on a laugh, nearly tripping herself. Beside Obi-Wan, Rex twitched again.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes to the heavens. _Oh great, they both think it's funny now._ _Force, I’m going to become a Sith before the end of this_. “Will you avoid making any, shall we say, _modifications_ , to that right now?”

Anakin raised his eyebrows. He stroked his beard with exaggerated movements, setting Ahsoka off into another round of giggles. “To _what_?”

“ _Anakin_.”

Anakin blinked. “That _is_ your name.”  
  
“Will you leave that lightsaber alone?”

“Well it’s my lightsaber, right now.”

“Yes, and it is your, _Obi-Wan’s_ , life. You. Master Kenobi.”

“Uh…Sir?”

Obi-Wan turned around to find Rex glancing nervously between their little group and a fast-approaching figure. He hesitantly moved between Anakin and the newcomer’s line of sight, staring at Obi-Wan and jerking his head not so subtly at Anakin, before subtly pointing to the incoming figure. Seeing who it was, Obi-Wan’s blood ran cold.

“Anakin.”

Anakin was fiddling with Obi-Wan’s comm on his wrist, probably intending to make it play one of the many awful ringtones he had saved up over the years (for the sole purpose of messing with his master, or so Obi-Wan would say; Anakin vehemently denied such accusations, claiming that Obi-Wan ‘never did appreciate his music taste like he should’. Force, Obi-Wan was tired). He looked up, opening his mouth in question, but was interrupted by a loud _ahem_ from behind Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan turned around, grimacing. He had to admit, it was a bit disorienting to be on the receiving end of one of Cody’s more bland, dismissive (but not unkind)nods. Those were usually only reserved for politicians and reporters, and occasionally Anakin when he was getting in the way without meaning to.

No, he usually was on the receiving end of the look Cody was giving Anakin right now. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Anakin had turned back to the comm, pressing buttons on it in a frantic display of technological aptitude that Obi-Wan could only dream of. None too gently, Obi-Wan nudged Anakin with a foot; Anakin looked back up, gaze slowly traveling from Obi-Wan to the newcomer. Meeting Cody’s look (Obi-Wan distinctly remembered designating that one as ‘Death Look #6’), he swallowed nervously, smiling and looking pointedly at Obi-Wan for assistance.

Cody straightened, hands clasped firmly behind his back at parade rest. He ignored the rest of them, eyes boring into Anakin. “General?”

Anakin blinked, slowly lowering his arms and mirroring Cody’s posture. “Yes…?”

“I have been looking for you.”

Anakin nodded, tense. “I see."

Cody’s eyes narrowed. “I _see_?”

“Uh…yes?” When Cody didn’t respond, he continued, hesitantly. “What can I do you for- do for you, Cody?” Obi-Wan winced mentally, shooting a glare over at a pack of 212th onlookers not bothering to hide their intrigue; he was disoriented again when they didn’t acknowledge his look. He frowned, stroking his chin thoughtfully. _Force, are my men really like this? You’d think another Jedi staring them down would at least provoke a reaction_.

Cody clapped a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, and belatedly, Obi-Wan realized that now was probably the time to tell him; but before he could get anything out, Cody was dragging Anakin away, muttering to himself. Snickers could be heard coming from a few of Ghost Company as commander and Jedi disappeared out the other side of the hangar, Anakin looking back at Obi-Wan with horror.

When they were out of sight, Ahsoka stepped between Rex and Obi-Wan. She paused, opening her mouth to ask a question.

“You don’t want to know,” Obi-Wan mumbled, turning on a heel and striding off in the other direction, quickly. “Well, we can't save him now. Come on. Let’s just hope he remembers to tell him, yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! on my bullshit. Here to do whatever I guess


	2. Are you amnesiac or something?

Dragging Obi-Wan behind him through the halls, it was only when he reached a fork in the hallways that Cody realized he had no idea where he was going. He frowned, rubbing his chin in thought.

Unfortunately, being in his position high up the metaphorical food chain of the GAR (well, mostly metaphorical. Cody had heard rumors about General Yoda’s diet that he didn’t want to test, unfounded or no) meant that he was always, _always_ swamped with responsibility; to the point that occasionally, he forgot where he was actually supposed to be going, or where he was supposed to be directing someone. That was where his Jedi general came in: to direct _him_. Or, was supposed to come in. Yeah, right.

See, according to Kamino’s upper brass, Cody's role was supposed to be something that one could only really describe as ‘cannon fodder’, no matter how many fancy words they dressed it up in. Sit down and shut up. Stand up and shut up. Do this. Shoot that. Learn these. Run here. Tell the rest of the men to go there. If the Jedi (if they even really exist) says “jump”, then you fucking better jump, no matter if it’s off a bridge.

They never outright _said_ you were supposed to be a mindless drone. At least not if you were a commander like Cody—no, that was for the clones you were in charge of to hear. Force, but Cody would have _killed_ to have had General Ti there when he was coming up. Or even any older brothers at all. At least the younger shinies now had _someone_ to look up to.

Anyways, the problem was that in Cody’s experience—well, there were a number of problems.

For one, he could never even fucking _find_ his Jedi general, because apparently Obi-Wan made it his life’s mission to be as random and annoying as physically possible. He didn’t mean to do it to _Cody_ , of course, or his men for that matter; no, it was to his enemies mostly, who deserved it. And sometimes to his friends (who if Cody was honest, probably deserved it too). It was just that for the people who got stuck fruitlessly tracking him down, it could be anxiety-producing to the point you got annoyed. Why? Because somehow he would start out just going on a leisurely stroll, but when you went to look for him you’d end up finding him halfway across the galaxy on Shili or whatever.

And he couldn’t even complain about it to the other commanders, because literally no one else had that kind of problem. Not even Rex. Though to be fair, Rex's problems were on a different plane of existence. Later on in the war, he realized that the only one who seemed to get it was Fives, who wasn’t even a commander; and he only seemed to get it because he was like that himself.

Secondly, even when he _did_ find Obi-Wan? Well, half the time he was plowing _directly_ into trouble, and the other half he was getting plowed into.

Okay, wrong phrasing, but the point still stood.

One minute he’d be chatting with you, and the next he was gallivanting off into whatever new bullshit had decided to manifest. Most of it with the Skywalker brand all over it. Not all of it, though; sometimes it was standard Jedi-issue bullshit, or maybe Senate-related. On rare occasions, it could even be Sith-branded nonsense, which was by far Cody’s least favorite.

So Cody, a simple clone commander trying to make his way in the universe, would throw up his hands and wait for the general to get back, because trying to stop the bullshit only seemed to double it. _If_ Obi-Wan got back (it was 50-50, 40-60 if Sith-related), the 212th would immediately be sent off to battle, because Palpatine was insane and seemed to hate them and their general specifically.

Then Cody would get to the battle, feeling alright because he was literally made for this, and that’s when he’d abruptly remember that _oh yeah, this is nothing like those stupid fucking simulations_. Oh, and that Jedi who the Kaminoans said he was supposed to be directed by? Would cheerfully defer to him on battle tactics, giving Cody the reins to the _entire_ _battalion_. Then he’d fuck off and fight a cyborg.

(All of the above had occurred within the first week of Cody and Obi-Wan knowing each other. Once upon a time, Cody hadn’t thought it would be a trend).

Needless to say, Cody had learned very, _very_ quickly how to survive in the war. It required a level of adaptability, cunning, and absolute dumb luck that Kamino couldn’t teach you. And what did what they said matter? The only thing that mattered was A) to survive; B) to keep as many of the men alive as possible, because they _deserved a life after the war_ , _dammit_ ; and C) to not let the general die, because unfortunately Cody had gotten himself attached. Oh, and winning the war, but that was whatever. Cody hadn’t ever met a non-Jedi Coruscanti he liked, so he preferred to motivate himself for other reasons. Love for his brothers, mainly, and their brothers-in-arms. And all the civilians they’d helped.

Also his hatred of the Seps, but he kept that one quiet—Obi-Wan would probably disapprove of him using hate as a motivator. He liked to think Obi-Wan was sort of attached to him too, in whatever way it was that Jedi were allowed to like someone. He let him fuck him at least, so that was a start?

_What was I doing, again?_

_Oh, right. Forgetting where I’m going. Eh_ , Cody thought, turning around to scrutinize Obi-Wan. _Not my problem_. He ran a careful eye over him, frowning; he didn’t seem to be hurt, for once, just… off. Obi-Wan was weirdly quiet, wide-eyed as if he had no idea what to do with his current situation. That’s strange. Cody inclined his head in thought, stepping closer to him. Obi-Wan blinked, stiffening, and idly Cody realized that not a word had been exchanged for a few minutes now. Even stranger. When Obi-Wan didn’t offer any of his usual platitudes, Cody rolled his eyes, sighing. “Force’s sake. What did you do?”

“I- what?”

Without warning Cody clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze; Obi-Wan gave no response but to blink owlishly. “Someone give you drugs or something? You’re not usually this slow on the draw.”

“Wha- _hey_!” That comment seemed to shake him out of his stupor. Cody could feel minute trembling under his hand; maybe he wasn’t as fine as he seemed? But Obi-Wan seemed oblivious to his musings, staring at Cody’s hand as if it had sprouted a head. “What- are you doing, Commander?”, he asked, softly. He seemed far-off when he spoke, as if he wasn’t all there.

Caught up in his thoughts, it took Cody a moment to register what had been said. When he did, he snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Really? _Commander_?” At Obi-Wan’s questioning look, he sighed, exasperated. “Look, _you’re_ the one who wants me to call you Obi-Wan. Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone, or however it went.” When Obi-Wan just stared blankly, Cody frowned, brow furrowing; it was _Obi-Wan_ who had taught him that line, once, when he was gently ribbing (read: making fun of) a particularly stuffy politician for being too judgmental. Surely he would get the reference, unless…?

Cody put his hands on either side of Obi-Wan’s face with concern, examining his pupils. _They look normal_ , he thought, wondering how his admittedly short life had come to this. “Are you amnesiac or something?”

Obi-Wan blinked, flushing lightly; then he straightened up, drawing in a deep breath. “If you would let me _get a word in_ \- I’m, uh, not Obi-Wan. I’m Anakin.”

Cody withdrew his hands and went into parade rest when a few men passed them. _Can’t be unprofessional, now_. “Right. And I’m General Grievous.”

“I wouldn’t actually know, ‘cause I’ve never seen him, but I would assume that means you think I’m lying.”

“Funny.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’m sure you aren’t.”

“Then _why_ did you drag me out…” Obi-Wan looked around, noting that they were in the middle of nowhere, “….here,” he finished lamely.

On cue, Cody slapped a datapad on his chest. “It’s done. Now sign off on it.”

“You dragged me off like a madman so I could finish _paperwork_?”

“Well,” Cody acquiesced, playing along, “No. That’s just an excuse.” He gave him a subtle once-over, jerking his head towards an open room. “I wanted to _check in_.”  
  
Unfortunately for him, Obi-Wan decided to play oblivious. “Well…here I am. You checked in.”

“Are you serious.” Cody rubbed at an eye, feeling more tired than he probably should. “You _know_ that’s not what I meant.”  
  
“No, I _really don’t_.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Obi-Wan, if you aren’t in the mood, just tell me?” He sighed. “Force, okay, it was kind of funny at first, but I thought you’d have dropped the act by now. Did you run away from sickbay again? Is that what this is? No, wait. This _reeks_ of Jedi…stuff. Skywalker put you up to this?”

“I- Wait. I _run away_ from sickbay?”

“Yes. Quite literally. It’s a pain.”

“Like, _physically_ run away?”

“Yeah, that’s what literally means. Honestly though? You seem to do it mentally too.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “Okay, that’s actually kind of hilarious. What else do I do?”

“You _want_ me to list off my grievances?”

Obi-Wan leaned in, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes that wasn’t there previously. “Oh _absolutely_.”

Cody eyed him a moment; then, sighing, he lowered the datapad, tapping his fingers rhythmically. “No,” he answered, after a moment.

“What? _Why not_?”

“You just said you’re Skywalker. If that’s true, then you aren’t privy to that information.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Obi-Wan groaned. “Force. I’m a Jedi. How did I just let myself get dragged away like that? I could’ve used the fucking Force.” He frowned, before his mouth twitched. “Say, why were you so urgent? What did he do?”

“You know, you’re lucky. If I didn’t like you so much, I’m sure I’d be smacking you upside the head right now. Gently, of course.”

“You didn’t- what?”

Cody shrugged. “First you claim you’re General Skywalker. Then, you start talking about how you’re going to _go_ full Skywalker and use the Force on me? You’re either being an _exceptionally_ good liar about this whole thing—which, I have to admit, is kind of impressive, though it's a bit funny you think you can pull it off against _me_ of all people—or you’re severely concussed.”

“ _Or_ , it’s an example of…what did you call it?” Obi-Wan grimaced. “ _Jedi stuff_?”

Cody considered this, thinking back to all the batshit insane stories Rex had grumbled his way through over a glass of less-than-legally brewed booze.

“Yeah,” he began slowly, after a moment. “I can see that. Maybe.” He squinted. “Right. Then I suppose I ought to assume that _you_ , General Kenobi, are actually in General Skywalker?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

Cody rolled his eyes. When Obi-Wan began staring again, he snorted. “Alright, the staring was kind of cute at first, but now it’s just getting a little weird.”

Obi-Wan quickly looked away. “Sheesh. What the hell is it that you and Obi-Wan have going on, anyway?” At Cody’s sharp glance, Obi-Wan shrugged, gesturing nonchalantly. Cody frowned. “I mean, Obi-Wan’s not all that big on the physical stuff, you know, but you’re very hands-on.” _Great, he’s referring to himself in third person now._

“Are you _trying_ to provoke me? Because it won’t work.”  
  
“No, for the last time, I am _not_.”

“Obi-Wan. You may think you are a good actor. Some among us would say, very good. But I’m not falling for your bullshit again. I _know_ you’re trying to get out of…something.” Cody winced internally. _Man. I’m off my game too._

“Not- wait. Again? What did he do the first time?”

“The first _few_ times,” Cody corrected. When Obi-Wan tapped his temple, Cody sighed. “Right. You’re actually Skywalker. You wouldn’t know.”

“Bingo.”

Cody cringed. “I’m starting to believe you, because there is no way in the Sith hells you would be caught dead saying ‘bingo’.”

“Seriously- you have it. You have it right there. Why is this so hard to believe.”

“Because it is.”

Obi-Wan (…..Skywalker?) groaned, putting his head in his hands with a bit more melodrama than was entirely necessary. “For fuck’s sake, you sound like Obi-Wan.”

“Okay, whoever you are? Please just stop saying Obi-Wan. Because it sounds and looks like you’re talking in third person.”

Obi-Wan, or apparently, Skywalker, frowned. “Well how else am I supposed to refer to him. ‘General Kenobi’?”

“No.” Cody answered flatly. After a moment, he sighed, releasing ‘Skywalker’ from his grip; it wasn’t like he was going to run away, apparently. _Not like some people_. “Look. Fine. If you’re Skywalker, tell me something only Skywalker would say to convince me.”  
  
“What, other than _I am Anakin Skywalker!?_ Man, how often does he slip away for you to be so…”

“Skeptical?”  
  
“Yeah!”

“Fine, I’ll humor you—he’s a real slippery little bastard. Obi-Wan is a good enough liar to pull that one off, so you’ll need to try something different.” _Great. Now I’m the one talking in third person_.  
  
Obi-Wan grumbled, rolling his eyes heavenward and huffing; the gears turning in his head were visible as he thought it over and tapped his foot. Inwardly, Cody winced; _Force, he’s telling the truth isn’t he. Maybe. Hell if I know at this point. I'm tired._

“Never mind. I’m sold.”

“I- okay. Uh.” ‘Skywalker’ squinted, confused. “Wait. Why?”

Cody didn’t answer him, looking around; a few of Ghost Company wandered past, waving in greeting and whispering to each other. Sighing, he turned back to the Jedi. “Where was it you wanted to go, Skywalker?”  
  
‘Skywalker’ stared blankly, gaping slightly. Then, slowly, he gestured in the direction of the bridge, as if unsure of what just happened. Shrugging to himself, Cody nudged him forwards, falling into step beside him.

General-Skywalker-but-probably-just-Kenobi-thinking-he-was-funny occasionally stole a glance at him, seemingly torn between his curiosity at Cody’s about-face and his urgency to get going. He drew in a breath.

“It’s a few reasons,” Cody interrupted. “Mainly just to get you to stop, because this seems a bit above my design specs, you know what I’m saying?”

“Uh….Yes? I think.”

Cody continued, nodding stiffly to a couple of the 501st. “Partly just to see where this leads, because it isn’t often that I’m invited to the front row of Jedi bullshit like Rex. I mean, I don’t really believe you. But I do kind of want to see where you end up _this_ time, you know? At the very least, it’s an elaborate ruse.” Obi-Wan's face squinted back at him, confused. Cody sighed, fondly. “Generally, _my_ general takes care of weird Force shit on his own, whether or not us 212th boys want him to. It’s a little more novel to us.” Kenobi-Skywalker (Skywalker-Kenobi?) coughed. “And partly,” Cody added, “Because I know that Obi-Wan would never purposefully adopt so many of Skywalker’s- sorry, _your_ , mannerisms.” At the Jedi’s bewildered look, he nudged him again. “Don’t look so offended.”

“You just told me that Obi-Wan doesn’t like the way I act.”

“Okay, first off, you’re using third person again, so stop that please. Second, how did you jump to _that_ conclusion? He likes the way you act just fine. Can never shut up about you, in fact.”  
  
“Well then why would-”

“You have your thing, he has his, don’t ask me.”

“You’re just a fountain of information, aren’t you.”

“Yep. In fact, just ‘cause I’m feeling generous, I’ll tell you some embarrassing stories about him.”

Skywalker’s eyes lit up, hopeful. “Really?”

“No.” As quickly as he'd perked up, Skywalker deflated, grumbling and slouching as he walked. After a moment, the corners of his mouth twitched up.

“At least tell me what’s going on between you and him.”

It was Cody’s turn to blink. “What?”

“Oh come on. I know him too, you know. He doesn’t get touchy feely with just _anyone_. Or _let_ just anyone get that way." 

Cody paused, considering. Then abruptly, he spun around in front of Skywalker and leaned in, baring his teeth in a smirk. Obi-Wan (no, Skywalker) stared down at him, wide-eyed; but to his credit, Skywalker didn’t back down.

“Like I said. _Don’t ask me_.” Without any more explanation, he turned on a heel, marching away stiffly and looking much more confident than he felt. “You coming?” He called back, hearing the sound of Obi-Wan’s boots behind him.

_Force. What have I gotten myself into?_

At least he knew where he was going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cody with my heart and soul


	3. Incoming train wreck

Ahsoka bit her lip, feeling herself practically vibrating as they waited for Anakin to get tho the bridge. On the way there, Master Kenobi had devoutly worked around any of her questions about why they were avoiding Cody, or why they were letting Anakin deal with it instead, or why he wasn’t acknowledging Rex’s absolute puppy dog eyes (okay, she didn’t ask the last one, and you couldn’t technically _see_ Rex’s expression, but you could absolutely _feel_ it in the Force); now, she was standing across the holotable from him, restlessly shifting her weight from foot to foot between glancing up furtively, wondering when he was going to say or do anything.

But all he was doing was just… standing there. Arms folded, staring into space, sometimes tilting his head as if listening. She was _burning_ to ask him about to what, but she kind of worried about if it would accidentally disrupt him from something important.

“I’m trying to sense how close Anakin is. And if he brought Cody along.” Master Kenobi provided an answer for her, mouth twitching when she visibly jumped. She hastily corrected herself, folding her own arms from where she’d been fiddling with the holotable controls. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “It seems that he did, in fact. Oh well. He was going to find me eventually.”

“Find you?” She blurted out, unable to hide her curiosity. He opened his eyes, a faint smile on Anakin’s lips. _Oh Force, that’s weird._

“I had a rather nasty fall during our last battle. I assumed that’s why he was looking for me.”

Ahsoka filled in the blanks, grinning. “You totally ditched sickbay, didn’t you.”

“No comment.”

She snorted, ignoring the faint flare of exasperation coming from where Rex was locking the doors. “I did the same thing too,” she mentioned offhandedly, wondering herself where Anakin had been dragged off to, or if he planned on getting up to the conference room anytime soon (though on second thought, it wasn’t like him to have any sort of plan for anything). Lost in thought, she wasn’t prepared for the full focus of both Master Kenobi and Rex’s attention to snap onto her. The Force became heavy with carefully concealed alarm; or at, least, in Master Kenobi’s case. Rex was blaring his concern loud enough to make her wince.

 _Whoops_.

“You _what!?_ ” Rex barked, stopping what he was doing and starting to step over to her, as if to check her condition. Ahsoka wasn’t really sure what _for._ It wasn’t like the awkward trek up to the bridge had somehow wounded anything other than her pride. She threw her hands up in mock surrender, shuffling a step back.

“Whoa whoa whoa, I just did it _once,_ and it was to check on someone else.” When Master Kenobi regarded her in silence, she scratched her wrist sheepishly.

“Okay fine, it was _twice_ , but that’s it.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay _fine_ , I did it a few times, but I promise I don’t do it a lot, I was just trying to _connect_ you know, ‘cause we don’t talk a lot,” she rambled, trailing off awkwardly when Rex moved to call someone on his comm. He punched in a number, determined; then slowly, he blinked, looking over at Master Kenobi in Anakin’s body, and lowered his arm, grumbling.

“Force, okay, I _promise_ I won't do it again, I-” she paused, pointing a finger in accusation. “Wait. _You’re_ the one who even put the idea in my head!”

“I- _what?_ ” Master Kenobi looked affronted now, some of the color draining from Anakin’s face. “When-” he began, before frowning in confusion. “Why in the _Sith hells_ would you emulate _me_? Emulate Anakin!” He grimaced. “Actually, no. I take that back.”

“So you admit you’re a bad role model?”  
  
“Ahsoka, I never said I wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Now hold on just a minute. Stop changing the subject, that’s _my_ thing. I’m going to talk with Anakin about this, you know.”

“Oh yeah? Then I’m gonna tell him about _you_.”

“Padawan, that is _not_ your responsibility.” She was taken a bit aback by the force behind his statement, unused to anything above his mild irritation. Force, but it was unnerving to be under his scrutiny, especially considering the circumstances. Grimacing, he sighed, running a hand over his face; when he couldn’t feel a beard anywhere, he gave a slight wince. “I…apologize. It’s just that you already concern us enough, Ahsoka. Please don’t give us _another_ reason to worry about you.”  
  
“I don’t mean to!”

“Yeah, we know, kid,” Rex chimed in. “It’s what we do, though.” He nodded towards Master Kenobi. “Even he does. Er, General Kenobi, I mean. Also Ana- Skywalker, too.” He coughed.

Though Master Kenobi gave him a flat look, the Force was tinged with amusement. “And what do you mean by _even_ he does, Captain?”

Alright, so maybe she was grateful that Master Kenobi’s weirdly piercing gaze was directed elsewhere. And maybe, she was relieved that he seemed to be letting her off the hook (as of now, at least). And maybe, the incoming train wreck that was sure to happen if she left Rex out to dry would be something to lord over him later. But…Ahsoka felt kind of bad for Rex. It wasn’t his fault that his higher mental functions seemed to completely collapse around Anakin, to the point where she had seriously considered making a brand new category of cringe compilation about it. She would go through with it, if only she didn’t pity him so much. Force, but Echo and Fives would probably think it was hilarious. Jesse would probably act like he didn’t, then share it with the rest of the 501st anyway.

And now, it looked like it was about the right time to save Rex from himself. Anakin’s face with Master Kenobi’s chill (or rather, lack thereof, but he at least possessed the ability to _act_ like he had it) was not doing him any favors. She shook her head, interrupting Rex’s stammering by pointing at him.

“You’re making Rex anxious.”

Master Kenobi raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “And why would that be? Do tell.”

“Hey, Rex can speak for himself,” Rex got out. He turned to Master Kenobi. “You _are_ making me anxious though.”

Master Kenobi rolled his eyes, and _that_ looked more like Anakin. “What is this, ‘mess with Obi-Wan day’?”

“Yes,” Ahsoka immediately chimed.

“Why are you _all_ like this. Where did I go wrong. What did I do to deserve this.”

“He’s worried about you.” Rex nodded in agreement, not bothering to hide how much he wanted to evade Master Kenobi’s question.

(Ahsoka really, _really_ wished she could share this with the men).

“Again, Rex can speak for himself. Kid’s right though.”

Master Kenobi sniffed, so un-Anakin that she was prompted to smother a laugh. “I _hardly_ need you two worrying about _my_ well-being.” Ahsoka stood up straight and folded her arms, mimicking him from earlier.

“Well it’s not _our_ fault that you’re like-” She paused, surprised at her own boldness. _Force, you idiot, he’s a master. Stop talking back, before you and Anakin get assigned to Hoth for a month._

Master Kenobi seemed just as surprised, the Force around him ringing with an emotion she could only describe as somewhere between dry humor and mild exasperation. Well, it wasn’t _Ahsoka’s_ fault that it was harder to take him seriously when he looked like Anakin—Anakin and her sassed each other all the time. Surely, that must be what was throwing her off. _Well technically_ , she thought, wincing, _it is my fault_.

Master Kenobi continued, oblivious to her internal cringefest—maybe. It was kind of hard to tell how much he was onto you, sometimes. “I’m like what?”

 _Hey_ , she thought, I _already dug my own grave. Might as well finish the burial._ “Like, uh- like Anakin!”

She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say, so it was to her surprise when he barked out a laugh. “Those,” he coughed. “Are fighting words, young one. I’m offended.”

“They’re true!”

“You’re killing me, Ahsoka. You’re killing your grandmaster.”

“Admit it!”

He waved a hand. “Perhaps they _are_. You ever repeat them, though? I’m leaving.”

“And go out in the ship alone? Master, you’d be found out in seconds. We need to keep it _secret_ , remember?” Master Kenobi raised an eyebrow at the jab; when she shrugged sheepishly, his mouth twitched.

“No, I meant leave the Order, to hide my shame. Become a Sith or something.”

“Wha-” She tried and failed to smother another laugh, her efforts made worse by the fact that he kept a straight face. “Master,” she choked out, “I’m sorry, but did you just say you’d become a Sith?”

“What, you don’t think I’d make a good one?”

“I…have no idea, actually. I mean, I don’t exactly have experience. It’s a thought though, isn’t it?”  
  
Master Kenobi rubbed his chin, pausing to gauge Rex's reaction. Rex quickly looked away, Force crowding with anxiety again, and _for the love of-_ Ahsoka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Shields, Rex_.

Blessedly, Master Kenobi didn’t seem to recognize the anxiety for what it was; he turned back to Ahsoka, hiding a smile. “It certainly is. Perhaps,” he began lightly. “We should both try it out.”

“Well,” Ahsoka answered, catching on. “Anakin _does_ get on my nerves sometimes.”

“On _your_ nerves?" Master Kenobi rubbed at his mouth, tone reminiscent. "Padawan, I’ve known him over a _decade_. If anyone has the right to go Sith because of him, it’s me.”

“Hey, you just said we could _both_ try it out. No gatekeeping being a Sith. Is not a sentence I thought I’d ever say.” 

“I don’t know how much you know about Sith, but in my experience? Gatekeeping being a Sith is literally all the Sith do.”

“Well, you know more than me. All I know is that they have red lightsabers, and use the Dark side.”

“That _does_ seem to be the gist of it.”

“And they get the weird yellow eyes.”  
  
“If possible.”

“And they lie.”  
  
“Well, that one isn’t restricted to Sith, but yes, I suppose they do.”

“I wouldn’t know. Master Kenobi, I have never told a lie in my life.”

“Hm. Well, I’ve got that part covered, so don’t worry.”

“ _Master._ ”

“What? It’s an essential skill, Ahsoka.”

“Kind of like aggressive negotiations?”

“Exactly.”

Rex groaned, shaking his head. “Oh my- Enough. Please. Both of you, stop it. Stop it right now.”

“Oh come on, Rex! I don't get many chances to talk to him one on one. Do you _want_ me to lose my heritage?”

“Kid, _please_.”

“He started it.”

The master in question gave a rather ungraceful snort—which Ahsoka counted as an absolute win, because he was usually much too poised to make a sound like that—and shook his head, sighing. “I honestly can’t even remember what we were talking about. You see what you lot do to me? I'm losing it.”

“We were talking about Anakin.”

"Ah, that explains why I'm losing it, then."

She frowned. “Okay, but really, where _is_ he? He can get away from Cody, right?”

Master Kenobi gave her a tired look. “Trust me, it’s not that easy. He’s got quite a cunning to him.” Ahsoka opened her mouth, ready to ask him to elaborate, or which _him_ he was talking about; but she was interrupted by the door to the conference room opening, revealing Cody with a rather frazzled-looking Anakin in tow.

Master Kenobi found an interesting spot on the ceiling to study. “Speak of the devil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahsoka and obi-wan's relationship fascinates me. because alone, they seem relatively reasonable. but when they're together, especially when anakin is involved, they have massive "maybe someone in this abandoned clown factory can help us" energy, you know? idk how else to describe it


	4. Vibes

For a moment, no one said anything. Then, grinning widely, Cody walked up to Master Kenobi and slapped him on the back none too gently. Ahsoka felt herself twitch in surprise.

“Looking good, General Kenobi!”

The Force spiked, the same mix of mild irritation with dry humor from earlier that Ahsoka was beginning to think was just his default reaction to anyone saying anything. “Why, thank you Cody,” he responded. “I’ve never felt better.”

“Okay, I gotta say that I wasn’t expecting you to go along with it. Does he,” Cody asked, pointing at Anakin, “Have something on you? Wait. Is this a thing _you_ asked him to do? Because it was funny at first, but now it’s just weird.”

Master Kenobi sighed, shaking his head fondly. “No, Cody, it really is me in…here. By the way you stormed in, I was under the impression you’d figured it out.”

Anakin grunted. “No. He didn’t. Nothing I said convinced him.”

“In my defense, you realize this is ridiculous, right?” Cody shot back, ignoring Rex miming something that Ahsoka was pretty sure meant _chill_. Anakin glared.

“No, I had _no idea_ that this _might_ be a little strange! I walk around all the time as Obi-Wan, you just don’t realize.”

As Cody scoffed, Obi-Wan ran a hand over his mouth. “Actually, I _have_ pretended to be Anakin before in a cinch. Nothing quite like this, though.”

“You what!?”

“Well, I _told_ you about it when I did, it’s not my fault if you didn’t listen.”

“Old man, I _swear_ we are going to have a _long talk_ about that when this shit is over.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to talk?”

Ahsoka groaned, wondering briefly if she could slam her head into the holotable hard enough to pass out and escape this conversation. “Guys. _Guys_.” When they both grumbled but otherwise made no move to start arguing again, she hustled over to Anakin’s side, hovering nearby. “You okay?”

Anakin sighed, staring off into an unseen distance. “That’s… a loaded question.” He rubbed at an eye. “Can we just get this over with? I just want this over with.” Unconsciously, he started plucking at his newfound beard again, and Ahsoka wasn’t sure if she should try to stop him or not—she didn’t exactly have any hair, but it seemed safe to assume that that wasn’t healthy for it, right? Thankfully, Master Kenobi didn’t notice, preoccupied with…well, Ahsoka wasn’t exactly sure _what_ he and Cody were doing.

“Cody, please.”

“Fine. What’s something only Ob- General Kenobi would know.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” Master Kenobi paused, considering. A gleam appeared in his eye, one that Ahsoka was glad she wasn’t on the other side of. “You remember when we were chasing after Grievous on Sullust?”

Cody snorted, grimacing slightly. “Heh. Yep. How could I forget?” Then he frowned, slow horror dawning on his features. “Wait.”

“So you remember when we were ambushed, and you took a blaster bolt to the-”

“ _Okay!_ Okay, it’s you.”

Master Kenobi tilted his head, Anakin’s features breaking out in a devilish grin. “Glad to hear you’ve come around.” Cody sighed, flicking him on the shoulder.

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“Doing that with your face. Well- not really _your_ face, I guess, but you get the point. The face you are currently occupying.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Just wondering, is it compulsive for you or something?”

“Is _what_ compulsive?”

“To be as difficult as possible.”

“O-kay,” Rex cut in, clearly wishing to be anywhere but here at the current moment. “Cody, let’s go.”  
  
“What? _Why?_ I want to see where this goes.”

“Well I don’t.”

“ _Both of you_.” Anakin shook his head, rubbing at his eyebrows. _At least he wasn’t plucking himself anymore_? “Please.”

As Master Kenobi turned to stare incredulously at Anakin (and honestly Ahsoka agreed, because Anakin was the absolute _last_ one of them who should be complaining about bickering in the middle of something important), Ahsoka caught Rex’s eye and grimaced in sympathy, wordlessly inclining her head in question; he shook his head, begrudgingly grabbing Cody’s arm.

“C’mon. Let’s let them sort this out, vod.”

Cody ignored him, still arguing even as he was led away. “This conversation is _not_ over. I’ve about had it with the ‘hey, I’m gonna use myself as bait’ shit.”

“Well _you’re_ the one who, having found his way behind enemy lines, _immediately_ gives himself away.”

“I gave myself away because _your_ ass was in need of a rescue.”

“Yes, you just _have_ to steal enemy ships to rescue me.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength.”

“I already told you, I had the situation _well_ under control."

Anakin leaned over to whisper to Ahsoka, entertained. “So this totally isn't really about the body switching thing, right?”

Master Kenobi glared. “I heard that.”

Cody pointed at Anakin as Rex, who was fully intent on getting as far away as possible, practically dragged him away. “Hey. Take care of that, Skywalker,” he said, gesturing vaguely as he let himself be shoved out, stopping to give one last look at Master Kenobi. Rex ignored him, turning around briefly to share a look of exasperation with Ahsoka before following Cody out, muttering something that sounded like _you’re having way too much fun with this_.

Again, the room was filled with awkward silence, broken when Anakin turned to his former master, eyebrows at his hairline. Was it just her, or were they both starting to seem a little bit like their opposite selves? (Their not-selves? Their occupied vessels? She really needed some shut-eye). Anakin regarded him with a smug look. _Ah. Never mind_.

“So,” Anakin stated, matter-of fact.

“…..Yes?”

“What was that.”

Master Kenobi stiffened. “What do you mean?”

"I had a nice chat with _Cody_."

"I'm... sure you did. He's lovely conversation."

“Do you seriously _run away_ from the sickbay?”

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?”  
  
“Like, just straight up _hightail it_ -”

“Anakin.”

“Force, he had a point, it’s _weird_ to hear- ugh, don’t call me Anakin with my own voice.”

“Well then, what should I call you, _Anakin_?”

“Not that.”

Ahsoka groaned, again. “Guys. Please. Council.”

Master Kenobi grimaced, tapping his fingers on the holotable. He leaned his head back, sighing. “…Right.” In an uncharacteristic show of discomfort, he shifted his weight from side to side. “So.”

Anakin mirrored his fidgeting. “So.”

“Anakin.”

“What?”

“You already made me make the first call.”

“And?”

“It’s your turn to contact them.”

“Well _you’re_ the Council member.”

“ _Anakin_.”

“Let’s talk about why you’re on first-name basis with _Cody_ , shall we?”

"Oh, like you and Captain Rex? You know, it seems I make him awfully uncomfortable. Any reason for that?"

"I dunno, maybe your vibes are off."

"My _vibes_?"

“You’re not ready for that conversation.”

“Now just what is _that_ supposed to mean!?”

Over the past few months, Ahsoka had come to hear a certain phrase uttered frequently by the clones, through the halls of battleships and camps and even the temple by some Jedi, alike. It was a phrase that technically, she knew the meaning of, though until relatively recently she hadn’t fully understood, when she’d spent a rather memorable (though, for some, it was very much not-remembered) night out with a few other padawans, on one of the very, _very_ rare occasions that they were able to get together. It was a phrase that technically, the clones were not supposed to understand, or even know the subject of, or much less repeat; and yet, they did, this phrase spreading through their ranks like wildfire. The place from which they knew this phrase was unclear; some claimed they knew it from Jango Fett himself, who would occasionally grumble it to himself after a long, difficult day of training the first of his clones, especially if more than a few of them had been rather thick-headed that day (deliberately or not); others would claim that they knew it from Jedi general and Master-of-the-Order Mace Windu, having totally-not-eavesdropped on him speaking with General Yoda after he had just met with Generals Skywalker and Kenobi; still others claimed they knew it only from gratuitous personal experience with its subject.

(Had she asked Cody, she would know in fact that it first became known, to the 212th at least, when General Kenobi had muttered it after being subjected to his then-padawan’s rants about Senator Amidala. The men had immediately began to investigate its meaning, finding _fascinating_ results).

The phrase in question? ‘I need a fucking drink.’

Needless to say, Ahsoka found herself in agreement with its sentiment. Sensing her growing frustration, Master Kenobi smiled apologetically, bumping Anakin with his shoulder. “Our apologies, young one. We ought to put our frustrations aside.”

“That implies we’ll actually address them later,” Anakin grunted. “But fine.” He squinted at Master Kenobi, a slow smile creeping on his face. “Y’know, I guess that _I’m_ technically the Council member right now.” Master Kenobi waved a hand, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

Anakin ignored him, tapping in the Council’s contact; he winked at Ahsoka, and she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be worried. “Ready?”

She sighed. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone have some brain cells to spare? im running low on supply. i mean, I have for years, so thats nothing new. but i would love to remedy the problem


	5. He wasn't lying

Force, Anakin didn’t want to do this.

If one were to ask him, ‘hey Anakin, you ever wonder what it would be like if you and Obi-Wan switched bodies?’, well, a few things would happen.

The first thing that would happen was this: Anakin would look at the asker like they were a fucking weirdo, because no one who knows Anakin would ever ask him that, and Anakin sure wouldn’t bring it up himself. Therefore, it would be perfectly acceptable to look at a complete stranger, who asked a weirdly personal question like that, like they were a freak. Anakin would then exit the conversation, as promptly as possible.

However, were one of Anakin’s closest friends to ask him this question (unless Obi-Wan was the asker, which was a case that Anakin quite literally couldn't ever imagine happening, so he had no expectations or otherwise plan-like thoughts regarding it), then, well, the second thing that would happen, if this prerequisite was satisfied, would thus happen.

Which was this: Anakin would answer ‘yes, absolutely’. 

He _had_ wondered it. Not often. But sometimes, when Obi-Wan was Obi-Wanning, the thought would flash briefly across his mind. Though to be fair, a lot of weird thoughts crossed Anakin’s mind on the regular, so it wasn’t exactly unique. But there were times, like when they’d be sparring, and he’d finish a series of attacks, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t even break a sweat defending himself, that he’d kind of wonder what having the stamina to keep going with Soresu for literal hours would be like. Not that he didn’t have stamina. But it was just _freaky_ , okay?

Or when Obi-Wan would start doing the (annoyingly effective) thing he did, where he would start charming people so he could either get away from them or get something out of them. Anakin liked getting away from people too, but he never _could_ quite figure out how to make it seem like he didn’t. And he had to be a little more…blunt, when he wanted something from someone.

But if he really had the chance to switch, he’d do it for like an hour at most—so, definitely not _this_ —because he most definitely did _not_ want to deal with all the strings attached to Obi-Wan. Seriously, every time he unearthed new and as-of-yet undisclosed information about Obi-Wan (Ahsoka had called it ‘Kenobi lore’ once, and it was a rare occasion that that left his mind)—a jilted ex-lover, a jilted ex-nemesis, a jilted ex-random bystander, a lot of jilted exes really—it stopped looking like a few intriguing threads from his master’s life before Anakin, and more like some kind of fucked-up spider web. Anakin wanted to _know_ all of it, of course. He just didn’t want to _live_ it.

(Someday, Anakin was going to get the truth out of him about just _what_ happened between him and the Duchess. Or him and Master Vos. Or why he and Dex were such good friends).

Anyway, the point was that while yeah, Anakin had thought about all the fun shit involved with being Obi-Wan for a little while, he hadn’t taken into consideration the less-fun shit. Which was where the Council came in.

Staring back at the various Jedi masters’ holograms, who were all looking to him with barely-concealed curiosity, felt vaguely like one of the recurring nightmares from his youth. There was Saesee Tiin, flicking his eyes back and forth between him and Obi-Wan, as if sizing up the differences between them; and Shaak Ti (didn’t she have clones to train?), smiling gently, whether from bemusement or concern Anakin wasn’t sure; and Kit Fisto and Depa Billaba, neither of them bothering to hide their glee; and Plo Koon and Adi Gallia, probably thinking something, Anakin could never really get a read on them anyway; and, as ever, atop it all, Mace Windu’s inscrutable gaze, making him want to hide a shiver. To his surprise (and also, admittedly, to his relief), neither Yoda nor a few of the others were anywhere to be found. Privately, he supposed that they were off on missions, though that didn’t answer why so many of them had come for _this_.

Anakin shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the gazes, not having spoken a word since they all blinked into existence. Honestly, how did Obi-Wan do it? Roughly ten seconds of being stared at, and not even by _all_ of them, and he was already jittery. He looked anywhere but the holotable, finding a spot on the opposite wall to examine.

When he refused to speak up, Obi-Wan heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Anakin-”

“Holy Force. He wasn’t lying!” Anakin resisted the urge to wince at Kit’s proclamation, wishing he could sink through the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Obi-Wan rolling his eyes.

“Master Fisto, why would I lie about something like this?”

Blessedly, the Council’s eyes all shifted to stare at Obi-Wan in bewilderment, who folded his arms in a way Anakin knew meant _he_ was uncomfortable. _Huh. Maybe he’s not as used to it as he seems_. Obi-Wan continued, shuffling his feet minutely.

“We had a…situation, while we were looking for the artifact. I assume you remember assigning us, Mace?”

Depa waved a hand, lips twitching. “Hold on, hold on. Obi-Wan, you aren’t seriously going to act like this, are you?”

Obi-Wan frowned, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately. “Act like what?”

“Like- like this is some-”

Whatever comment she had intended to make was lost as she broke out in laughter, joined shortly after by Kit and Master Tiin (and, more surprisingly, Master Ti). Plo’s eyes seemed to crinkle at the corners (though Anakin wasn’t sure, that might have just been his face) as Master Gallia hid a smile with a hand. _Great_.

Okay, so yeah, Anakin was starting to get why Obi-Wan had been annoyed at him and Ahsoka earlier, because it was _definitely_ not this funny.

 _Liar_ , a tiny voice at the back of his head whispered.

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, looking to the ceiling for answers; unfortunately for him, his reaction only set them off again. The only one who remained stone-faced was Mace, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Anakin. He inclined his head in thought, eyes narrowing, and it was time for Anakin to start shifting around again.

“Skywalker,” he stated calmly; Anakin snapped to attention, silently hoping Ahsoka had done the same, because there was a strange note in his voice, and Anakin _really_ didn’t want to test it when he wasn’t himself. Mace raised an eyebrow, bemused. “Force, Skywalker, relax. Am I _that_ scary to you?”

For a second, the comment didn’t register, as Anakin’s (Obi-Wan’s?) brain slowly deciphered the tone as _flippant_ ; as soon as it did, he practically jumped, prompting Kit to snort.

“I- no, actually. Well- I mean I respect you, Master Windu. It’s just-” Anakin stopped, noticing him twitch. “What?”

Mace opened his mouth to say something; then, as if noticing Obi-Wan for the first time, he refocused his attention, running a considering eye over him. He raised an eyebrow again as Obi-Wan stared back, strangely defiant. Slowly, he looked back over at Anakin, and was that a grim smile Anakin saw?

“Well,” he began, still with that _flippant_ tone (it was weird, okay). “At least we know you’re both telling the truth.”

Anakin inclined his head, curious; he ignored it as Depa snickered, Master Gallia eyeing her with mild amusement. “What clued you in? Besides the fact that we, I dunno, told you.”

Kit wheezed so hard he started to cough; belatedly, Anakin realized that yeah, this must be even funnier for them, because they probably never got to see Obi-Wan as anything less than super-formal. Maybe. He still wasn’t sure just _what_ Obi-Wan’s relationship with some of them was, because it wasn’t like Obi-Wan was all that forthcoming about it. (Though to be fair, Anakin hadn’t really asked).

Obi-Wan was glaring, all but mouthing at him to _knock it off_ , and then it clicked into place: while Anakin only had to deal with them after missions, Obi-Wan had to deal with them _all the time_. As in, daily. As in, he was never going to live this down, for the rest of his time as a Council member, because some of them could live for a _long_ time, and he was the youngest of them.

 _Oh_.

Mace, who seemed to be reading his thoughts, nodded slightly, and yeah, he was _definitely_ smiling grimly. “For one, if he ever talked back like you did just now, we’d most likely postulate he got kicked in the head." Hearing Ahsoka choke on a laugh beside him, Anakin elbowed her with as much subtlety as possible. Which was admittedly, not a lot. “And for another,” Mace continued. “I have never, and I mean never, Skywalker, seen you stay still that long.”

Anakin reached up to pluck at his beard; the thing was itchy, why would Obi-Wan _willingly_ subject himself to this? “Forgive me, master, for how I spoke. I’m just not used to having to look up at you this much, from down here. It's scary." He felt Obi-Wan's eyes boring into him in annoyance, and it was a struggle not to look over; to look _up_ at himself, seriously, he was only a few inches taller normally, why was the shift so disorienting?

To his credit, Mace didn’t so much as blink, the only indication that the comment even had an impact on him a slight twitch; the others didn’t fare as well, even Masters Gallia and Tiin erupting in a coughing fit to hide any other reactions. Mace sighed, sweeping an eye over all of them. “You all realize that this is a possible security breach, right?”  
  
“This is the best security breach of my life,” Kit replied, the stupid grin he’d had from the beginning of the call not leaving his face once. Mace sighed again, trying and failing to give him (along with everyone else—minus Plo, who mostly just seemed fondly amused) a disapproving look. He turned to Obi-Wan (who, Anakin had to admit, was doing a rather convincing job of hiding the fact that he probably wanted to be spaced right about now, or maybe even to murder Anakin in cold blood).

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, Master Windu?”  
  
“How did it come to this?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Honestly Mace? I don’t know. Back in my day, if I’d said half the things these two say to me, Qui-Gon would’ve made me run laps around the temple.”

“No, that wasn’t what I meant-“ Mace frowned, pausing. “Wait. What?”

As Ahsoka chewed her lip, (probably trying to picture what he would’ve looked like as a padawan, or if he had ever actually _been_ one and hadn’t just come to the Order as a fully fledged Jedi master), Anakin rolled his eyes. “You _did_ make me do that once, remember?”

“Not, really, no.”

“Oh come on. You remember me releasing those hornets, but not me throwing up?”

“To be fair,” Depa chimed in, getting control of herself long enough to respond. “Releasing a bunch of hornets is a lot more memorable than just plain old throwing up.” When Mace turned to look at her incredulously, she blinked. “I…mean. What hornets?”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, ignoring the second question. “Exactly.” He sighed, a far-off look in his eye. “Sometimes, I would complete the laps, but was too stubborn to admit I’d spoken out of turn, so he’d just have me keep running until I’d get too exhausted to continue. Then, if I was still being obstinate, he’d give me some tea with a little bit of spice in it and send me back out. Perks you right up, you know? Though I never _did_ do that with Anakin, nor do I think it would’ve helped. Still, it makes you think.”

Slowly, Kit’s smile disappeared, replaced with a look of dismayed confusion. “Hey Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“What the fuck?”

“Kit, there’s no need for obscenities.”

Depa rubbed her temple, wearily. “Why is it that every time you reveal a new piece of information about your apprenticeship, I kind of wish you hadn’t? Not that I don't appreciate it.”

“Don’t ask me. I was assigned to him.”

At the awkward pause that ensued, Ahsoka frowned. “…Wait. What _kind_ of spice? Like, _spice_ spice? Isn’t that illegal?”

Obi-Wan rubbed at his chin, considering. “Well, it is now, I suppose.”

“I’m…pretty sure that was illegal. For the last five decades, at least. As in, the _very_ least. I read about it in class.”

Obi-Wan looked her dead in the eye. “Not if you do it willingly.”

“I…think it’s still illegal, even then.”

Anakin waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Ahsoka. Just appreciate the new Qui-Gon lore.”

“But-“

“The lore, Ahsoka.”

“For the love of- _Obi-Wan._ ” Mace exhaled. “I _meant_ , how did you end up _switching bodies_. How did it come to you both _switching bodies_.” Master Tiin snickered, in what was quickly becoming the most number of times Anakin had seen him have a sense of humor, ever. “You mentioned something about an artifact. Do you have it? The _artifact_ ,” he emphasized.

Anakin shrugged. “Sure we do. Ahsoka grabbed it on the way out. It’s…” He frowned, glancing to Ahsoka.

“…Back in the shuttle,” she finished. Anakin winked at her, making her smother another laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Obi-Wan looking to the heavens, as if he hadn’t just divulged new (and highly questionable, AKA the best kind, in Anakin’s humble opinion) information about his apprenticeship completely unprompted.

(Okay, so it _did_ worry Anakin a little bit, because it wasn’t usual that he’d slip up and start in on something like that—that was more Anakin’s territory. Maybe Obi-Wan was taking this harder than he was letting on).

Master Gallia frowned. “You left a Force artifact in a shuttle? Unsupervised?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan began, “Not _unsupervised_. Our men are out there with it.” She frowned, squinting.

“And do they _know_ about it?”  
  
“Well…no, but-”

“Are you meaning to tell me,” Mace interrupted. “That you three _left_ an artifact—a possible _Sith_ artifact, no less—alone, in a shuttle, in a hangar with thousands of other people? In a _confined space_?” He exchanged a glance with Plo, who still hadn’t said a word this whole time. “Can you at least tell us how it worked?”

It was Ahsoka’s turn to shuffle her feet, sheepish. “Well, uh- “

“I bumped it,” Anakin finished for her, ignoring her surprised look; and really, was she so surprised he’d take the fall for her? “I didn’t look where I was going, and I walked right into it, and that was it. Swapped.”

“Thank you,” Master Tiin grumbled, amongst a number of knowing looks being exchanged, and hey, what did _they_ know? Anakin hadn’t even really _done_ it, this time at least. “For that _enlightening_ description.”

“Any time.”

Mace blinked wearily, regarding them with a keen eye. After a long moment, he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well," he said slowly, lowering his hand and examining them, as if he wanted to see recognition of what he was hinting at before he said it; met with three blank stares, he sighed, yet again. "Could you go _get_ it?”

Anakin looked pointedly at Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan frowned back at him, glancing at Ahsoka; Ahsoka looked back and forth between the two of them, lekku twitching. Without speaking, Anakin moved a little closer to the holotable controls, doing his best Obi-Wan impression and smiling blandly.“Sure thing, masters. Be right back.” Before any of them could offer a rebuttal, he shut off the communications with a wince. He turned to the others, trying and failing to lean casually on the side of the table.

“Alright,” Anakin asked. “Who’s gonna go get it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> qui gon absolutely had regular access to recreational drugs i will die on this hill. if I remember right its literally canon that yoda did too
> 
> my man would’ve made a truly fantastic weed uncle. I just know he would’ve


	6. I know my theatre, master

Obi-Wan immediately frowned, crossing his arms again. “Well it can’t be me,” he stated matter-of-factly, peering quizzically at Anakin. Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Why not?”

“I’m still not used to being inside you. I nearly tripped several times on the way up here, I’d rather not do it in front of the whole crew.”

“Please, _please_ don’t describe it that way.”

Ahsoka frowned, fiddling with her comm. “Should I ask Rex? He can probably get it.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Let’s try _not_ to give Rex any more troubles, shall we? Nor Cody, for that matter.” When Anakin snorted, he shot him a flat look. “What? I don’t see _you_ volunteering.”

“Well _I’m_ not going either. Look, do you really want _me_ walking around as you, with no supervision? Someone could try to give me one of your responsibilities, or something.” Obi-Wan frowned, considering. “Master, what if the Admiral tries to make me do paperwork on one of your battles. What then. Do you want that, Master? Do you really want-”

“ _Alright_ , Anakin, Force’s sake. Maybe I should go, after all.”

“No.”  
  
“What? Why?”

“You are _not_ making me look like a fool in front of my men.”

“I’d say you do that well enough on your own.”

“ _Hey!_ Says the Jedi Council’s comedic relief!”

“Excuse me- _comedic relief_?”  
  
“I know my theatre, master.”

“Oh, _do you now-_ “

Ahsoka ignored the budding argument, switching off her comm. “Both of you got affected,” she reasoned. “Maybe you should go together.”

Anakin opened his mouth to say something; but catching Obi-Wan’s eye, he snapped it shut, the two of them silently communicating. Slowly, both of them turned to look at her, the faintest air of smug humor drifting through the Force.

…….And that was how she found herself trudging back down to the hangar, feeling mildly like she was being led around on a wild bantha chase. _At least I’m getting some low-key exercise_ , she thought grimly. Usually, her daily exercise required a little more exertion. Constantly running away from or towards enemy fire, as well as fighting Sith assassins, tended to be excellent cardio.

Sighing to herself, she reached up to scratch at a montral. If she was completely honest, she didn’t completely remember where they’d parked; only the general vicinity in the hangar, and even that was iffy.

* * *

“No.”

Cody rolled his eyes at Rex. “Why not?”

Rex sighed, thinking back to when he’d first witnessed the situation and wondering how his life had come to this. “Sorry, but there is absolutely no way that Anakin loses that fight. You didn’t see General Kenobi on the way up there. He nearly tripped about 5 or 6 times, though I wasn’t really counting.”

“Yeah, but the way _I_ see it,” Cody countered, poking his fork at the square of what was apparently supposed to be food in front of him. “Is that with the different fighting styles, Obi-Wan has the edge.”

Rex propped his chin up with a hand, leaning into it. Feeling like playing the skeptic, he gave a lazy smirk. “Oh really? Sure you aren’t a little biased?”

Cody ignored the jab, focusing intently on his ‘food’. He stabbed at the corner of the square, breaking off a small piece. Raising it in front of his face, he regarded it closely, much like Rex imagined a scientist would examine a bacterium, or a tooka its prey, if tookas were able to use forks or something. “It’s like this, Rex ol boy. How does Skywalker do his fighting?”

Rex shrugged, mildly wondering what about the supposedly edible content on the fork was so interesting. “You’ll have to be more specific.”  
  
Cody squinted in mild irritation. “I _mean_. What’s his style? How’s he move? What’s his go-to?” Rex raised an eyebrow.

“Like, with the ‘saber?”  
  
“No, with a spork. Yes I mean the kriffing _lightsaber_.”

“Guess I’d say he’s a heavy-hitter. Nine times outta ten, goes for the knockout blow, and he’s certainly strong and skilled enough to do it. Oh, and he’s quick. Quicker than almost anyone.”

“Yep. And with the Force?”

“Same answer.”

Cody grunted, trying to balance the fork on its end, the tines waving around in the air as it wobbled and tried to fall each time he released it. “Sounds like you know him well.” His lips twitched. “ _Quite_ well.”

“What’re you insinuating?”  
  
“Nothing, vod. What’s Obi-Wan’s style?”

“No, back it up. Were you insinuating something?”  
  
“I already said I wasn’t, now answer the question.”  
  
“Cody- what is this, an interrogation?”  
  
“Yeah. I’m trying to see if you pass.”

Rex rolled his eyes. “Fine. _Your_ Jedi’s style is mostly defense. Or at least, s’ what I heard from Anakin.” He smiled wryly. “He said it requires a lot of stamina, and is, quote, ‘annoying as hell, why couldn’t he pick a less boring form’.” Cody snorted, giving up on balancing the fork and picking it back up, food still caught on it.

“He would say that, wouldn’t he."

Rex grinned wolfishly. “I mean, he’s not wrong. Compared to us, you two are a little bit… boring.”

Finally putting the food in his mouth, Cody winced at the flavor (or rather, lack thereof). “For your sake, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.” He took an unenthusiastic stab at another corner of his rations, grimacing in distaste. “You’re right about his style though.”

When he offered no further remark, Rex rolled his eyes. “And?”

“And what?”  
  
“What’s your point?”

Cody bared his teeth in a smile, turning the fork over slowly in his fingers. “ _And_ , that means that Obi-Wan’s got the edge. ‘Cause he’s pretty strong, but ain’t all overpowering like Skywalker is. So he doesn’t rely on his strength too much.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be stronger? I’m glad we’re admitting Anakin’s better.”

“Not _better_ , just physically stronger. Overpowering. Yours in mine is smaller, less overpowering, and doesn’t know how to use the superior stamina of mine. And mine is bigger, stronger, _and_ has way more finesse.”

“I feel like you’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Rex remarked, eyebrow raised in amusement. “And yours doesn’t have more finesse.”

“I like to be prepared for any and all situations,” Cody replied easily. “And yes he does.”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

“What we talking about?” Rex jumped at the new voice, rolling his eyes as Hardcase and Jesse dropped unceremoniously into the seats beside him. Cody, on the other hand, showed no surprise at all, and he planned on being smug about it later, if his look was any indication. He hid a smile as Rex glared daggers.

“You two. Can’t you see we’re having a conversation here?”

Hardcase eyed Cody’s tray hungrily, stabbing at his own square of rations. Jesse leaned over and braced himself on an elbow, the picture of casualness. “Yep. ’S why we came over here. To converse.”

“And what made you think you were invited?” Hardcase yelped in exaggeration as Rex smacked his hand away from where it had wandered close to his plate.

“Because you love us?” Rex narrowed his eyes. “Because we’re fun company," Hardcase amended.

“Get out.”

“Aw, Rex,” Cody quipped, picking up his glass and swirling it around, as if it would somehow improve the flavor of whatever godawful protein drink he had chosen. “Let ‘em stay. I wanna hear their opinion.”

Hardcase perked up, fork suspiciously close to Cody’s tray now. “Opinion on what?” Jesse poked grimly at his own plate, before glancing hopefully at Cody’s. Wordlessly, Cody slid the rest of his rations over, ignoring Hardcase’s affront at his brother’s success; he wasn’t all that hungry, anyway. Rex slid his arm between Hardcase and his own food, leaning on it heavily, as if to shield it with his body. He gave Cody a questioning look; Cody shrugged, mouthing _not hungry_ as Hardcase had now distracted himself trying to sneak his food away from Jesse. Rex frowned.

Cody sighed, leaning back. “We’ve been debating a- totally theoretical question, for a while now.”

Rex nodded, stabbing at his own food aggressively; he missed the actual food, fork clattering loudly against his plate. “Totally theoretical.” Jesse inclined his head, curious. Cody continued.

“Say that Generals Skywalker and Kenobi switch bodies. Who wins that fight?”

Hardcase and Jesse paused, Hardcase’s hand poised to strike on Jesse’s food. “General Skywalker,” they answered in unison, and if _that_ didn’t warm Rex’s heart a little. It was Cody’s turn to frown.

“You lot are just biased.” A flash of familiar gold caught his eye. “Waxer! Boil! Come over here and answer something for me.”

* * *

Ahsoka chewed her lip, pushing down her building anxiety. She turned in a circle, fruitlessly scanning the hangar with her eyes, even straining her hearing as though it would help her, somehow. _Where the kriff is it?_

Shrugging, she jumped on top of a freighter to get a vantage point. It had to be somewhere around here, right? Grumbling, she tapped a message to Rex into her comm, deciding to do another sweep. _I must have missed it the first time_ , she thought, frowning.

Unprompted, a memory popped into her head from the early days of her apprenticeship, of when she and Anakin had been stuck on a rather damp and gloomy planet. She’d tried to start a fire, making sparks fly with her saber; but the kindling was too wet, and the air too foggy for any sort of flame to start. Anakin had been irritated with her, and watching her fumble around for a quite a while hadn’t improved his mood. “You know, Snips, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result,” he’d snarked.

Of course, he then proceeded to fumble around and fail to light a fire the exact same way Ahsoka had for the past half hour. They ended up huddling together miserably under a tree, both of them having lost their robes.

Still, the point still stood. Time to try something else.

She closed her eyes, and the odd sensation of slipping deep into the Force soon followed; a feeling she could only describe as mildly gut-dropping, like if she jumped out of a gunship with no way of stopping her fall.

(She wasn’t sure how much of the feeling was from the Force, and how much was from anxiety).

The artifact had been unmistakable in the Force, of that she was sure. Difficult to locate before she’d felt it the first time, though. The cave had been thick with a sort of oily feeling that seemed to wrap around them, doubling over itself and pushing mental probes back in what could almost be described like a mirror—an odd, but effective camouflage. It must’ve been purposefully hidden to get that effect, she pondered, but she’d never heard of any technique like it.

Once she’d touched it, though, things had felt much clearer, like they’d broken some sort of seal. The Force seemed to ripple off it in waves, and if she was careful enough, she was sure she could sense it.

* * *

“Skywalker is the literal Chosen One.”

“Chosen One? More like Chosen Lost. There’s no way he wins.”

“No, it’s like, Chosen number One, not Chosen Won as in won a battle.”

Boil thumped his head on the table as Waxer argued vehemently with Hardcase, gazing longingly at the door. Alas, he wasn’t about to leave his favorite brother’s side. “Can I ask _why_ we’re even debating this, sir?”

Cody clapped him on the shoulder, lips twitching. “Point of pride. It’ll make sense later, I’m sure. Now. Opinion?”

“Kenobi for sure.”

“Good man.”

“I try, sir.”

Cody chuckled at that, slapping him on the back. “These clowns don’t know what they’re even talking about.” Boil muttered something, muffled by the fact that his face was pressed to the table. “What was that?”

“I _said_ , you should ask Commander Tano’s opinion, ‘cause she’s the only one who’s around both of them long enough.”

“Too much 501st bias.”

“Oh, and we _don’t_ have bias?”

“Never said we didn’t. We’re just biased to our own, because clearly we’re the best.”

“Solid argument.”

Rex rolled his eyes, tapping away at his comm. “Y’know, I think I will ask Ta…no,” he trailed off, catching sight of the series of messages Ahsoka had sent. Just as soon as the hologram popped up, he clapped a hand over it, jerking his head towards the door to get Cody to follow. Grumbling, Cody stood, but not before taking one last distasteful look at the remains of rations still at the table. Rex himself, meanwhile, looked back miserably at the newly-acquired and as-of-yet untouched square of food he’d slipped away to grab (while Cody had played host to one of the more useless arguments he’d ever been a part of, not to mention that it probably violated several protocols of mission confidentiality). “I just got my salad, too,” he grumbled.

Hardcase leaned over, squinting in confusion. “…Salad?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“Yes. My salad.”

“What flavor?”

“Industrial.”

“…Can I have it?” But Rex didn’t have an answer, hurrying out into the hall after his brother.

Jesse blinked for several seconds. “The hell was that about?”

“Vod,” Hardcase replied, fingers inching towards the abandoned tray, “You should know by now not to question it. He always gets into weird shit.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t we help him? And why are you so fucking hungry?”

“If he wants it, he’ll ask,” Hardcase countered. He pointed to the ‘salad’. “And ‘cause I work harder than the rest. The grind never stops, Jesse.”

“You missed breakfast, didn’t you.”

“No comment. You gonna eat that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always kind of imagine that a battalion's general and/or Padawan commander is like a mascot of sorts. assuming that the general isn't like, y'know, terrible


	7. If you're done, shall we?

“I should’ve used the Twilight. I should’ve used the _fucking-_ “

Perched on a crate and watching Anakin pace back and forth around the holotable, Master Kenobi sitting atop it cross-legged with a bored expression on his face, Ahsoka felt an acute sense of deja vu.

Except this time, Rex was there, seeming like he didn’t really know what to do with his hands. And Cody, leaning on the holotable close to Master Kenobi, occasionally taking sips from a cup filled with a liquid that smelled suspicious even from here. And one of her lekku was really starting to itch. And they were on a ship instead of a cave. But those were the only differences from before.

Master Kenobi sniffed, regarding his fingernails. “Anakin, why do you even _have_ it on the _Negotiator_? I should’ve spaced it.” Cody coughed out a laugh as Anakin released a growl of frustration, tugging at his hair. “And stop doing that to my hair.”  
  
“If you don’t start treating this more seriously, I’m gonna shave it all off!”

“You seemed to think this was funny, earlier.”

“Yeah, that was before the damn thing went _missing!_ ”

Hesitantly, Rex took a step forwards, getting in Anakin’s path. He raised a hand slightly, like he wanted to grab his shoulder; but catching sight of Master Kenobi, dropped it, uneasily rocking back and forth on his heels. Anakin stopped and inclined his head, offering Rex a tired smile.

 _Force, they’re so obvious_ , she thought, glancing furtively at Master Kenobi. Thankfully, he was preoccupied with wrinkling his nose in disgust as Cody offered him his drink, who snickered to himself and downed it (much to Master Kenobi’s horror).

Rex frowned. “We can’t stay here forever, you know. There has to be a way to track down that shuttle, whoever took it.” Anakin sighed, rubbing tiredly at his forehead.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s probably just a mistake, right? We would’ve known if someone stole it. It just never would’ve happened if I used my own ship.”

“Anakin, if we used that hunk of scrap metal, we never would have even made it back,” Master Kenobi quipped. Ahsoka pointed at him accusingly.

“Oh, so you’re a _Twilight_ hater?”

He fixed her with a look of feigned seriousness. “The _first_ , Ahsoka.”

She gasped in mock affront. “ _Master._ ”

“Silly old thing should’ve been scrapped years ago.”

“How could you _say_ such a thing? She’s so reliable!”

“Reliable to break down, maybe.”

“Okay this?” Anakin interrupted, waving a hand between his master and Padawan. “Is not acceptable.” Master Kenobi rolled his eyes.

“And why not?”

“I don’t like it. You two teaming up is weird.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “What can I say? We had a moment earlier.”

“You guys are having _moments_ without me?”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Cody said loudly, exchanging looks with Rex. “I’m sure Skywalker is…right,” he grit out, tugging lightly at Master Kenobi’s arm. Ahsoka felt a brow raise when he didn’t recoil away from the touch, as he seemed wont to do. “It’s probably just a mix-up. Clerical error, really. Ships get sent this way and that all the time, we just have to look where it went.” Master Kenobi didn’t move, fingers steepled as he gazed far-off in thought. He twitched when Cody tugged harder on his arm. “I said, _we_.”

“Right,” he murmured. “I’d really rather not…shall we say, _bother_ the Council with this news? I’m sure we can return it quickly enough that it won’t make a difference.”

Anakin went wide-eyed, grin stretching Master Kenobi’s features. “Hold on. We aren’t telling the Council? Sure it won’t give you an aneurysm to do that?”

“I’m sorry, did you want to tell the Jedi Council that we _lost_ a Force artifact? On a probable _clerical error_ , no less?”

“…Good point.”

“Besides, it would be _you_ getting the aneurysm. Surely you’ve taken better care of yourself than to get one so young?”

“I could ask you the same question.”  
  
“So you admit I’m not that old?”

“Your body should not make this many creaking sounds when it moves. Are your joints rusted or something?”

“Having you for a Padawan didn’t do any favors for my aging.”

“If you’re done,” Cody muttered, grip tightening on Master Kenobi’s arm. “Shall we?”

He didn’t give an opportunity for an answer, almost dragging the Jedi off the table. Master Kenobi slid down and followed him indignantly. When they were gone, Ahsoka immediately got down and skipped over to the others. “So. Plan?"

Anakin grinned, wrapping an arm around Rex’s shoulders. Rex regarded the hand draped over his shoulder in mild fascination, like he was struggling between contentedness that it was there, and confusion that it wasn’t actually Anakin’s. After a moment he just shook his head, smirking to himself.

“We,” Anakin replied. “Are gonna go get ourselves a ship.”

Ahsoka tapped her chin with a finger. “The ship itself? Or a ship to _find_ the ship?”

“All of the above, Snips. And I know just the one for the job.”

* * *

 _Well_ , Cody thought, silently thanking the stars that no one else was in the room with them, _Rex really wasn’t kidding about the tripping thing_.

Obi-Wan groaned, whether from pain, embarrassment, or general angst to be determined. He pressed his face into the floor, unmoving. When he didn’t move for several more seconds, Cody twiddled his thumbs, unsure of what to do; but honestly, who would have any fucking clue of what to do in this situation? Sighing, he sat down next to him, then flopped onto his back. Obi-Wan turned his head to look at him in confusion, cheek still pressed into the floor.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted to move,” Cody answered, before he could ask. Obi-Wan grunted, attempting to stand; unfortunately for him, his toe caught on the floor, and he flopped ungracefully onto Cody, prompting him to let out an _oof_ at the sudden weight.

Idly, Cody pondered how if there _were_ somebody who knew what to do in this situation, he would like to meet this hypothetical person immediately, to ask them their recommendation of what course of action a man in his current position should take. Also, because whoever it was would likely have a wild story about how they’d found themselves in a similar situation as Cody was in. And also, because that would probably mean he was out from underneath Skywalker’s crushingly heavy frame.

Alright, so it wasn’t like Skywalker was _crushingly_ heavy, not really. More like, Cody was only really used to getting out from underneath his brothers, who were all relatively… compact, compared to Skywalker’s height.Or maybe a piece of debris that had lodged itself above him, which he could put his back into moving. Or Obi-Wan, on occasion, like the one time he fell asleep/passed out on top of Cody (Cody still wasn’t sure which it was, and he hadn’t been brave enough to ask at the time, and then enough time had passed that it would just be weird to bring it up again).

“At least take me to dinner first,” Cody quipped, warm feeling blooming in his chest when he heard Obi-Wan give a muffled laugh from where his face was plastered on the floor. “You gotta get off, Jedi.”

Obi-Wan looked up to raise an eyebrow, Skywalker’s features making a flirtatious smile. “Not like _that_ , Kenobi.”

“Going to my last name? Harsh, my dear.”

“As funny as you think you are, I have no desire to do anything with Skywalker.”

“I know. Force, I don’t want to do anything like this either,” Obi-Wan grunted. He pressed his face back onto the floor, as if to hide his shame, like that was at all possible any more. His voice was muffled. “I hate this so much.”

“Easy there.” Cody patted him awkwardly on the hip; well, he was aiming for his hip. It was more like his knee. “No hate talk.”

“I’m better than this. I’m better than this, Cody.”

“You sure are. Now can you, uh- can you maybe move. Skywalker’s kind of heavy.”

There was a pause, where Obi-Wan processed his words; then, sighing, he rolled off, until he was laying on his back next to Cody. He opened his mouth a couple times to say something, stopping himself each time; finally, he settled on a single, awkward “Sorry”.

Cody didn’t respond. Instead, he laid his head back, lips twitching when he heard a soft _thump_ next to him that signaled Obi-Wan had done the same. They were pressed together lightly, shoulder to unfamiliar shoulder. Somewhere, Cody knew that they should probably start looking for where the shuttle had gone, but somehow, it didn’t feel right to get up yet. How often did they get to just…sit there? Obi-Wan was quiet, the only sign he was there the light pressure on Cody’s shoulder, and his occasional fidget (which gave away his discomfort more than he’d probably like).

Oh well. Cody wasn’t about to call him on it.

He drew in a deep sigh, a sound coming from Skywalker that Cody usually associated with trouble. As a result, it took him a moment to register what was said, mentally preparing himself for catastrophic news as was the default.

“I’m sorry, Cody.”

The ceiling was a rather drab grey. Would it have killed the designers to give these damned ships a little bit of color? It was depressing, and not helping his mood. “For what? You have nothing to apologize for. About this. You’re getting tagged later though, when you’re back to yourself.”

Now, Cody wasn’t a Jedi by any means. Far from it, in fact. But even he could feel the amusement wafting through the Force. “Hm? I’m getting _tagged_ later?”

“I mean- shit. I meant tagged for sickbay. As in, that’s where you’re going.” Obi-Wan started to laugh, and was met with a light swat. “You know what I meant!”

“Enlighten me,” Obi-Wan drawled, enjoying this far too much in Cody’s opinion.

“I lose brain cells talking to you.”

“And just how did you come to that conclusion?”

“It’s the only possible explanation why I like you.”

“Hm? Nothing else? Not even my many, many heroic rescues?”

“No, because those just give me heart attacks. Why do you insist on being reckless? That’s supposed to be my job.”

“I can’t have you getting hurt. You’re a commanding officer.”

Cody sat up to stare at him incredulously. “Do you even hear yourself? You. Are. A. Commanding. Officer.”

Obi-Wan rubbed at an eye, studying the ceiling. “Well, there are other reasons I protect you.” When he clammed up then, Cody rolled his eyes inwardly. _Force, this is fruitless_. Sensing impending melancholy, he decided it was time for a change of subject. _Might as well ask him while I’m thinking of it_.

“Okay, so, question.” Obi-Wan grunted, to let him know he was listening. “Do you.”

“…Do I what?”

“As a Jedi.”

“Yes…?”

“Pay taxes? Because I cou-"

“Oh absolutely not.”

“I _knew_ it! Wolffe owes me!” Cody grinned, punching a very bemused Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Wolffe…isn’t he under the command of Master Plo?”

“Yes he is. Yes he is. Obi-Wan, you have no ideahow much this means to me.”

“As happy as I am for you, I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cody flipped over to lay on his stomach, the discomfort of spending extended time on the floor all but forgotten. “Wolffe is convinced that General Koon’s perfect in every way.”

“He is, but continue.”

“He bet me a whole _stack_ of paperwork that General Koon pays his taxes, ‘cause he’s a law-abiding citizen of the Republic, right? So I said, ‘he’s a Jedi, there’s no way they pay taxes’ and so he bet me about it. But he’s too scared to ask his _own_ general, in case he _disappoints_ him or whatever. Not that he literally ever could, from what I’ve seen.”

“You could never disappoint me, Cody.”

“Thank you, that means a lot. Anyway, the point is that I said I’d ask _you_ then, because you’re totally harmless so I have nothing to fear.”

“…..Alright. Why the fixation on taxes?”

“None of us clones have to pay them, but we hear nat-borns complain about them all the time. It’s kind of a point of interest, you know?”

“I suppose. If it’s any consolation, I have absolutely no idea how the Order ever gets money to begin with. I usually just ask for credits, and then they’re there. Convenient, really.”

“You’re a _Council member_ and you don’t know the Order’s finances?”

“Forgive me if I haven’t had time to learn them. I think Master Rancisis is in charge of the Treasury, or whatever it’s called.”

“How do you get _paid_?”

“By the Order. Maybe we get paid by the Senate? If you work for the Senate, do you _have_ to pay taxes?”

“You’re asking _me_?”

“Right.”

Cody sighed, smiling to himself. “Man. I’m gonna _enjoy_ the look on Wolffe’s face when I tell him.” Obi-Wan shifted. “What?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan began carefully. “I don’t actually know if Plo pays some form of tax. It may or may not be different on a, shall we say, individual basis.”

Reading between the lines, Cody thumped his head back, groaning. “Force above.”  
  
“What?”

“Obi-Wan, have you been evading your taxes?”

“What? No!”

“Are you sure?”

“…No.”

Cody rolled his eyes, kicking him lightly. “And that’s my cue to get up. Let’s go find where that ship went.”

* * *

Anakin grunted, reaching out from beneath the floor in the belly of the _Twilight_. “Snips. Hydrospanner?”  
  
“Yes boss,” she quipped, sharp teeth glinting in a smirk as she lifted it to him with the Force. Rex rolled his eyes, unsure why he’d been brought along.

“Oh cheer up, Rex!” Rex blinked. _Did I say that part out loud? Great, first I can’t shield, now I’m just blurting shit out._ Anakin continued, oblivious to his musings. “Where would we be without you?”

“Blasted to bits, most likely,” he replied, rifling through Anakin’s set of tools. “Need a welder, sir?”

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Rex handed it through the door, letting it go when he felt the Force take hold. It zipped into Anakin’s hand, quickly. Too quickly, it turned out, as Anakin yelped when it whacked into his palm. He tried to stand up, bumping his head on the ground floor of the ship. “Ow, and ow.”

Ahsoka winced. “Better hope Master Kenobi doesn’t feel that later.”

“Ugh. I forgot he has a flesh hand.”

Rex leaned against the side of the ship, carefully sweeping his gaze over the rest of the hangar. He was met with a few bemused looks. “You know, you probably should stop talking in third person while we’re out here.”

“Huh?”

“It’s already kind of weird that General Kenobi is with the two of us, rather than Skywalker. I wouldn’t want to start any rumors.”

Anakin’s head poked out of the hatch, grease showing in Kenobi’s fringe and beard that Rex wisely didn’t mention. “Rumors? What are we, a gossip mill?”

Ahsoka sat down on the entrance ramp. “Honestly? Yeah. It’s GAR currency.” Rex snorted. “What?”

“You sound like Fives. He always complains about it.” He stretched his neck, hearing a satisfying _crack_. “I’m afraid the men might be getting a little antsy to get back to Coruscant.”

Anakin practically dove back down in the hatch, engine parts drifting out. “Why’d we get picked to find the stupid thing anyway? That’s the whole reason we’re in this mess.”

“Availability.”  
  
“We just finished a _battle_. How does that mean we’re available?”

Ahsoka nodded to herself, sagely. “Life in war, master.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Rex added.

Anakin peeked his head out again, just to show them he was rolling his eyes. “Well, aren’t you two just a couple of philosophers," he groused, softly tossing the hydrospanner to Ahsoka. “Almost done. Rex, I need you to help me out. Snips, why don’t you go… get lunch, or something.”

“Get _lunch_? Are you trying to ditch me?”

“No! I just need to talk to Rex.” Ahsoka crossed her arms skeptically. “Alone, Ahsoka.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, turning to leave. “But only ‘cause I haven’t had anything yet.”

“Try not to eat anyone,” Rex replied lightly, stepping into the ship. Ahsoka grinned back at him, practically skipping away.

“No promises,” she sing-songed. Rex watched her leave before stepping inside.

…And came face to face with Anakin, General Kenobi’s features staring down at him with intent. Rex blinked, turning around to press the button to close the ship’s hatch. But it closed before he could press it, as if an invisible hand had reached out and done that for him. Rex sighed. “Isn’t that a frivolous use of the Force?”

He could hear Anakin’s grin behind him as the Jedi shuffled around, peering back down towards the tangle of wires he’d been tampering with. “Worth it.”

“Yeah, except you left your tools out there.”

“…Oh. Right.”

Wordlessly, Rex pressed the button again, hopping out. When he came back in, Anakin was rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, hand coming away with grease. Rex grimaced. _Force. I think he just spread it worse_. He kicked the button without looking behind him, dropping the tools on the floor. Anakin’s brows went up. “Impressive.”

“When am I not?”

Anakin laughed, pulling a hammer up into his hand with the Force. “Help me fix the engine?”

“And get between you and her? No, thank you.” Anakin pouted, holding the hammer out like it was a bouquet of flowers.

“ _Please_ , Rex ol boy? I could use some _assistance_.” Anakin waggled his eyebrows; or rather, tried to. The whole thing came across rather pitifully, as he couldn’t get his features to do the things his own face could. Not that the look he was going for was any better.

Rex sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Don’t ‘Rex ol boy’ me, sir. I’m not doing anything with you while you look like that. It would be _weird_.” Anakin ignored this, spinning the hammer in his hand a few times before balancing it carefully on his knuckles. He flicked it up into the air, quickly turning his hand and catching it in his palm, by the handle. Rex raised an eyebrow. “Impressive,” he remarked.

“When am I not?” Anakin countered, wearing a rather stupid grin. Rex shook his head in mock concern.

“Stealing my lines, now? That’s low, even for you.”

“ _Even_ for me? Rex, I’m hurt.”

“Then again, maybe I _should_ let you steal them. It’s not like yours are any better.”

Anakin’s tongue poked out through his teeth as he grinned, a rather childish expression that Rex privately thought looked rather odd on General Kenobi’s face.”Worked on _you_ ,” he gloated, absently tapping the hammer against his thigh.

“That’s because I have a defect in the brain.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. It makes me particularly susceptible to Skywalker bullshit.”

Anakin laughed, momentarily forgetting the Force and bending over to rummage through the assorted tools. “I sure am glad you have it, then.”

“What was the line you used on me? ‘I like how brown your eyes are, they’re really brown? You're like a poet.”

“They are!”

“Sure, but I share them with literally millions. If you wanted something unique, you could’ve picked—I dunno, my personality? Hell, pick my _hair_.” Rex watched, amused, as Anakin hopped back down into the ship’s underbelly; this was quickly followed by several banging sounds. He stepped over to the edge, mildly surprised when he saw that the Jedi had already managed to get himself entangled in the mess of wires. “You alright down there?”

“Yes, Rex, I’m _fine_. Right where I want to be.” Somehow, he maneuvered himself below the wires, until he was mostly hidden underneath. “Would you _like_ me to compliment your hair?”

Rex _did_ take some pride in his hair, he wasn’t shy to admit that. It took time and considerable effort to get it dyed the right color, and it made him feel… well, it was his own brand, of sorts. To get their hair different colors, clones had to make their own dye, which naturally led to none of their hair having the exact same color. It was as much unique to an individual as tattoos and the patterns they painted on their armor.

And there was a small part of him that said _yes, I would like you to compliment it_ , because he remembered how it had felt when he’d shown it to Anakin for the first time, way back when Anakin was still a Padawan. Anakin had gushed about it, excitedly peppering him with questions about _how did you do that_ and _did you do it yourself_ and _can you do me next_ , to the point that Rex had to lie through his teeth to convince _Anakin_ that his hair looked good, already, he didn’t have to change it—lie, because while it was a pretty color, and one completely new to Rex, that _haircut_ was possibly the worst one Rex had ever seen (and would ever see).

But that small part of him was _vastly_ outweighed by the other part of him, which really, _really_ didn’t want to have to suffer Anakin’s attempts at compliments.

“Rex, your hair is so beautiful,” Anakin began seriously. “It reminds me of the sun setting on a beach in Naboo-“

“Oh for- Please stop.”

“If the beach was not made of sand, because I hate sand-”

“For Force’s sake, _Anakin_ -“

“Well, but actually? I think I’d like sand more if it was more like you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you share some similarities. Coarse, and a bit rough. But pretty when the light hits you right.” Rex picked up the hydrospsanner and tossed it down at him. Anakin yelped as it clanged against the floor, close to his head. “Hey! What was that for?”

He chose not to respond, sticking out a hand to help Anakin out. In one smooth motion, the Jedi tossed his tools up and out of the ship’s floor and stepped up; then he picked up the floor panel, sliding it back into place. He clapped his hands together, as if to dust them off. “She should be good for awhile,” he said.

“ _Should_ be?” Anakin slapped the wall of the ship fondly.

“She’ll do her best.”

“I should hope,” Rex muttered. Anakin smiled, throwing an arm around his shoulders and hugging him to his side, prompting him to roll his eyes.

“Aw, come on, Rex. We’ll be fine.”

“You said that the last time.”  
  
“And we _were_."

“Barely.”

Anakin didn’t try to argue that, leaning into his side. “When I’m back to normal, we’re going on a date,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if it was an obvious and guaranteed thing and not at all an outlandish request given the circumstances. Rex sighed.

“A date? You mean, killing some droids? The Senate isn’t letting us take a break, you know.”

“I’ll make it work,” Anakin said confidently, running a hand through his hair. Pulling it away, he seemed to notice the grease for the first time, grimacing. “Ugh. Force, I’m dirty. Why didn’t you tell me? Obi-Wan’s gonna kill me.”

Rex tapped a message into his comm. "Good," he replied, laughing at Anakin's exasperated sigh. Then he shook his head, realizing. "I guess departure's gonna be delayed, though."

"What? Why?"

"You told the kid to get lunch. You _know_ what her appetite's like." 

"...Oh. Right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmfao so I know it's been a lot of standing around and talking but I promise: stuff will happen. and I appreciate the comments btw I love getting them


	8. You’d think something would’ve gone wrong by now

“Anakin.”

Anakin ignored him, squinting out through the front window, as if by scanning the empty space in front of him he would somehow make the shuttle materialize. Ahsoka, because she was a good Padawan who didn’t have it out for Obi-Wan’s patience specifically, leaned back in her seat to make eye contact with him behind Anakin’s back. She grimaced apologetically, raising her hands up in a gesture that couldn’t be misconstrued as saying anything other than _what can you do?_

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, kicking Anakin’s shin lightly. Not hard enough to hurt him, of course, not really; but there was a scar on his leg there, which he (unfortunately) knew tended to sting for a few moments if he bumped it too hard.

Anakin, of course, decided to be melodramatic. He yelped, letting out a string of curses as he jerked his leg up and rammed his knee harshly against the dashboard. Obi-Wan hid a snicker as he turned to glare.

“The hell was that for? That _hurt_!”

“Well, I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past few minutes.”  
  
“Oh, so that’s an excuse to kick me? To _wound_ me? How dare you.” Anakin pointed a finger in his face, the drama of it all giving the Coruscant opera a run for its money. Obi-Wan sighed; at least he had his attention?

“Please, Anakin, I barely touched you.”

“Then why’s it hurt so bad?”

“Oh come on, I _know_ that it wasn’t that bad. It’s _me_.”

“Well, my knee hurts too!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Masters,” Ahsoka interrupted, pointing at something ahead. “I think I…well, actually, I don’t know. Is that where we’re supposed to be going?” She frowned. “Why does this seem so familiar?”

Rex grunted, pressing a button on the holotable. When nothing appeared, he frowned, pressing the button again and again. Muttering to himself, he didn’t notice as Cody came up behind him and punched the holographic projector once, laughing as Rex himself decided to punch something—Cody’s shoulder. A map of the surrounding area sputtered to life, which Rex pointed to a floating object within.

“That would be because we’ve all been here before. Well, you, me, and Skywalker have, anyway.”

Right as he explained that the ships had been sent to Kaliida Shoals Medical Center, Anakin leaned forwards, wide-eyed. “Holy kriff,” he muttered. “We’re close to Naboo.”

Ahsoka frowned harder, seemingly noticing when Obi-Wan stilled. _Blast. Cursed perceptiveness_ , he thought, distracting himself by pressing random buttons on the dashboard. _Wait_. _Did Anakin seriously install a cupholder button in here?_

She ran a thumb over the hilt of her lightsaber, staring at Anakin. “Why do I sense unease from you, master?”

He jerked to attention, silently pleading with Obi-Wan to help him out. Obi-Wan just slowly turned in his chair, until his back was to both of them.

 _If I don’t see it, it’s not my problem_.

He heard Anakin huff, rustling around in his seat. “It’s…nothing, Snips. Why don’t you contact them to know we’re landing.”

“ _Master._ What is it?”  
  
“I said it was nothing!”

“Well you’re not acting like it’s nothing!”

Obi-Wan pressed the button to begin a transmission, loudly. Humor radiated in waves off of Cody, accompanied by a more muted sense of curiosity from Rex.

He twitched. _Wait. Does Rex actually know about…?_

Oh, well. It wasn’t like Senator Amidala would be there.

* * *

“What in the _galaxy_ are you all doing here?” Senator Amidala asked.

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin in thought, ignoring how Anakin was trying and failing to hide behind him (as Ahsoka regarded him with the exasperation that could only be achieved by those who had been exposed to Anakin’s tendencies for too long). Cody and Rex had stayed on the ship, in order to prevent any further, quote, 'theft', of, quote, ‘very important things’.

(Obi-Wan wouldn’t exactly call the _Twilight_ important. He just wasn’t going to pick a fight about it. Right now, anyway).

Not that Padmé really would have cared, Obi-Wan thought, debating with himself whether to inform her of their predicament. He saw a few options, here:

Option A: inform her of the truth. Pros of this option would be that she could help them navigate the base with little to no questions asked, and thus quickly find what they were looking for; and, any mildly embarrassing things Anakin did as Obi-Wan would be safely explained away as Anakin being Anakin. Cons were that another person would be in on it, which increased the security risk; and, that Obi-Wan might then have to waste time explaining why Rex and Cody had come along. (Why _had_ they come along?)

Option B: tell a half-truth. Pros of _this_ option would be that there would be one less person who might be vulnerable to a security breach, _and_ , that they would probably be able to find the artifact quickly. Cons were that no matter how Obi-Wan managed to get around the truth, there was what he estimated to be a 70% chance that Anakin or Ahsoka wouldn’t catch on, and would screw up the story he was telling. Or, they would catch on, but then overact it, and screw up the story he was telling. _Or_ , they would undersell it to the point of being weird, which would screw up the story he was telling. Or-

Anyway, Option C: lie his ass off. The cons of this one were numerous, because there was almost no chance that their group could pull it off successfully without causing lasting damage to one of the better relationships the Jedi had with a Senator.

The pros essentially boiled down to one thing: it would be funny. Both to see Senator Amidala’s reactions, and to watch the others flounder as they tried to improv their way around one of the sharper politicians in the galaxy.

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan rarely got to take the fun choice. It was with a heavy heart that he opened his mouth to say something in line with Option B.

“What are _you_ doing here,” he said instead.

Padmé frowned, confusion coloring her words. “I…work here? Sometimes I check in on the base. After Grievous’ attack, Naboo has taken it upon ourselves to make sure it stays safe—there’s been a recent viral outbreak, so I came to help with vaccinations.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan responded, feeling eloquent as ever. “That’s nice.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “Anakin, what’s going on? You didn’t tell me you were coming.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, wondering if anyone else felt like chiming in, ever.

Sadly, he was out of luck. Anakin had somehow teleported across the base’s hangar to inspect a nearby ship, trying to look as unapproachable as possible. And Ahsoka had her eyes closed, concentrating on…something.

“Senator-” he winced as she raised an eyebrow, correcting himself. _Force, why does Anakin have to make everything awkward_? “Sorry, I mean Padmé- My, um. Colleagues and I are here to…”

“Found it,” Ahsoka blurted, pointing at a shuttle. She opened her eyes, smiling sheepishly when she found four gazes on her. Padmé’s eyes narrowed even as her Force presence swirled with unspoken humor.

“Good to see you, Ahsoka. What did you find?”

Ahsoka made eye contact with Obi-Wan; he shook his head subtly, smiling nervously. Ahsoka responded by furrowing her brow, sending a feeling of inquiry. He replied by glancing at Anakin. Or rather, where Anakin had been, as he was nowhere to be found. Following his line of sight, she rolled her eyes, folding her hands and cracking her knuckles.

“Force artifact,” she said nonchalantly, patting Obi-Wan on the shoulder as she walked around him. “I’m gonna go grab it-”

“Ahsoka, wait,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps you should, ah. Keep it in that shuttle, yes?”

“Huh?” She chewed her lip, giving Padmé a nervous smile. “I mean, sure thing Master Ke-Skywalker.” Before anyone could respond, she turned on a heel, racing away.

Ignoring the crashing sounds coming from the vicinity of where she had run off to, Obi-Wan turned back to Padmé, who was wearing an extremely tired expression. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Anakin, _what_ is going on? Did you seriously bring a Force artifact onto this base?”  
  
“Okay, _I_ didn’t bring a Force artifact on this base, but there is one here. I- we sort of… chased it.”

“And that makes a difference _how_?” Her attention was drawn to something just past Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “By the way, what is Master Kenobi _doing_?”

“Funny you should mention that, he’s-”

As if called by a higher power (surely not the Force, because the Force would never make Obi-Wan suffer like this), Anakin appeared beside him, clutching at his arm.

“Obi-Wan,” he wailed, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “I can’t see!”

* * *

_2 minutes earlier_

All things considered, Anakin had been feeling pretty good.

Argument with Snips cut off by Obi-Wan, he soon managed to quickly and efficiently land the _Twilight_ , two words that usually weren’t in her vocabulary. Sure, the Force was warning him of _danger._ But it wasn’t like a _real_ sense of danger. It was as if the Force saw something stupid coming for him and was greatly amused by it.

He’d strutted out of the ship, intent on both finding the stupid artifact, and annoying Obi-Wan, who hadn’t helped him out at _all_ earlier with Ahsoka’s questions. Force, but he didn’t want to explain why going by Naboo always sucked.

How was he supposed to explain with a straight face to his Padawan that it was home to his ex-wife? Jedi weren’t supposed to _have_ ex-wives. Or _wives_ wives. Or wives to-be. Or husbands, for that matter. Any kind of spouse, really.

The worst part was that Padmé seemed to be… _fine_ , whenever they talked. Almost as if she was embarrassed about it and didn’t want to speak of it again, ever. Not that Anakin ever wanted to speak of it, ever, either. But _still_. He didn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but he always felt like he had to be the one to bring it up. Except he never did. But he wanted to? No, he didn’t.

Point being, Padmé had moved on, and Anakin hadn’t. Not that he didn’t want to, it just kind of sucked, because he never even got to _address_ it with somebody else.

Well, he’d spent _hours_ complaining about it to Obi-Wan, just without mentioning that she had actually been his _wife_ for like three days. Obi-Wan didn’t really count though, because he wasn’t a person. Anakin had been dumping information on him for so long, he was less of a confidante and more of a reluctant answering machine.

(So what if Anakin hadn’t told him about Rex, yet? Anakin had secrets too, actually. Very few. Very, _very_ few, in fact, when it came to Obi-Wan. But he _had_ them).

Anyway. When he saw Padmé, he kind of freaked.

In his defense, _who_ would want to run into their ex while on a highly confidential mission/errand/attempt at retrieving something quickly so Mace Windu didn’t bust a blood vessel from stress? No one. No one would.

It was then that the primitive part of Anakin’s brain took over, the part that controlled his base instincts and which Obi-Wan complained he used too much. First, he tried to hide. Then, when that didn’t work, he fled, like a bantha from a krayt dragon. A highly fashionable, beautiful, and slightly confused krayt dragon.

As he wandered, he cast an idle eye over the ships in the hangar, half searching, half making sure that the rest of the group wasn’t coming his way. Okay, so maybe he’d kind of screwed over Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan could take care of himself, right? When it came to awkward situations, he’d rather have Obi-Wan covering for him than anyone else.

Not looking where he was going, he almost tripped over a med-droid, stumbling before righting himself up against a nearby ship. The droid beeped up at him in apology, holding something in its hands.

Anakin smiled, patting its head fondly. “Hey, little guy. What’s wrong?”

The droid tilted its head cutely. _Vaccine?_ It asked in binary, making Anakin exhale out a laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m all up to date!”

The droid scanned him, beeping skeptically. _I am not finding evidence of vaccination_ , it responded. Anakin frowned.

“That’s funny, I would swear I”- he groaned, tugging at his hair. “Right. Not _me_.” Grumbling _what the fuck, Obi-Wan_ , he smiled down at the droid, painfully. “It’s okay, buddy. I think I’m just gonna-”

Anything he was about to ask was cut off as the droid jammed a needle into his arm. He flailed as he stumbled backwards, knocking over several crates. “Hey!”

He yelped, standing up to give the droid a piece of his mind about maybe giving him a _warning_ , _next time_ —and stumbled to the side, suddenly woozy. The world swam in front of him, a blurred mess of grays and whites and a little bit of orange that was probably Ahsoka. He reached out through the Force, finding Obi-Wan, and tried to take a few steps in that direction.

Somehow, he ended up on the floor. Cursing, he stood up again, forcing the Force to force himself forwards. The Force smacked at him lightly, giving him a reprimand before tugging him towards Obi-Wan again. He glanced off the side of a ship, smiling apologetically at what he was pretty sure was a clone—either that, or a really good clone impersonator—and spun in a circle, trying to keep his balance. Thankfully, Obi-Wan’s Force presence wasn’t too far away, turning over itself slowly with apprehension. Apprehension about what-

Oh. Right. Padmé.

* * *

Cody rested his chin on the holotable. “Hey, Rex.”

Rex looked up from where he was polishing one of his blasters, brows knitted in concentration. “Yeah, vod? What is it.”

He sat up, trying to crack a spot in his spine that had had a full ache for the past few minutes. “How long does it take, normally?”

“How long’s it take for what?”

Cody spun in his chair, reaching over his head to pick at the wall. “Shit to go sideways.”

Rex snorted, inspecting the blaster’s barrel. “Hasn’t it already?”  
  
“Yeah, but I feel like it’s gonna be worse.”  
  
“Do you _want_ it to be?”  
  
“Nah. But let’s just say I…have a bad feeling about this.”

Grumbling, Rex resisted the urge to throw the blaster at him. “For the love of- please don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“You _know_ why not.”

Cody snickered, spinning back and forth. Rex was vaguely reminded of a pendulum. “I’m just saying. Not a lot of action, here. All of your Force stories have downright _wacky_ shit happen—I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I hope we get to keep waiting. It’s not _pleasant_ when it does.”

Cody leaned forward, hands on his knees. “Oh come on. You’re telling me that getting thrown off a bridge _isn’t_ fun?”  
  
“Yes. Yes, actually, I am. Why don’t _you_ try it? See how it feels.”

“Because Obi-Wan never does that. I do wanna try it, though. Just _once_.”

“I promise you, you don’t.”

“Yeah I do.”  
  
“No, _you don’t_.”

Cody grumbled, standing up and stretching. “You’re no fun.” He sighed loudly, messing with the table’s controls. “I thought this would be _exciting_. Run into pirates, or something.”

“Run into- Cody. I keep trying to tell Skywalker that boring is _good_.”  
  
“You call _me_ boring.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Aw. I’m touched.”

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah, well. Ugh. All I’m saying—don’t give me that look—all I’m saying, is that this is a little more…dull, than I expected. You’d think something would’ve gone wrong by now.”

Not two seconds after he’d said it, the ship rumbled, the floor dropping down before lurching up. It was as if something had slammed into them, and the momentum nearly knocked Cody over. He looked around, dazed.

Rex sighed, putting his blaster in its holster. “You were saying?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i love it for the memes and because it eventually led to luke and leia but. anakins flirting with padme would be like. the ultimate cringe comp material in-universe. like hes soooo lucky no one ever saw that shit
> 
> like can you imagine having this super famous hero to literally trillions of people and then it turns out he wifed Natalie Portman with the line 'I hate sand'. can you imagine. aotc is literally perfect


	9. We've got company

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan hissed, pulling him upright and wrapping an arm around him. “What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

Force, but he could feel Padmé’s eyes on him, and he _really_ didn’t want to see what her expression was.

Anakin tried for a confident grin in what he hoped was the direction of Obi-Wan’s face. “Vaccine,” he slurred, thankful that he couldn’t see the other Jedi’s expression, if the spike of exasperation and dismay in the Force was any indication.

Obi-Wan adjusted him on his hip, practically growling at him. _Force, is that what I sound like when I’m angry? I_ _sound awesome_. “Is now,” he grit out in Anakin’s ear. “Really the time to be vaccinating me?”

“Actually,” a Padmé-sounding voice chimed in. “It’s the perfect time.”

Obi-Wan huffed. Anakin really wouldn’t be surprised if he found himself getting thrown at someone, soon. “Well, it looks like I’m- he’s not reacting to it well.”

“Whose fault is that,” Anakin countered, grinning when Obi-Wan exhaled. He heard rustling come from where Padmé was standing.

“Yeah, unfortunately it can cause temporary blindness in some people- Listen, does one of you want to explain what’s going on? I feel like I’m missing something important.”In unison, the two Jedi winced.

“We uh-

“Well, you see-

* * *

_What to do, what to do?_

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by a noise coming from down by his wrist. It took him a while to place what it was: a particularly obnoxious pop song, which had been circulating the Coruscant airwaves recently, blaring noisily from his comm.

Slowly, he turned to look at Anakin, trying his best to convey through the Force just how _unamused_ he was. Anakin shifted, a light flush coloring his cheeks.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan asked patiently, momentarily forgetting that they had an audience. “What in the Sith hells, is that.”

"Sorry, lemme just-" Anakin groped blindly along Obi-Wan’s arm, grimacing. Instinctively, Obi-Wan tried to detach himself, pulling away.

“Anakin, get off-"

“Don’t judge me, that song slaps-"

“Will you _stop_ -"

“It’s called a _ringtone_ -"

“A _what_ -"

“For messages-"

Once again, Obi-Wan was out of luck—Anakin grabbed at his robes and held on, hands somehow finding their way to his commlink and pressing it.

A series of messages from Ahsoka popped up. Obi-Wan froze, eyes furiously scanning them. Distantly, he realized that Padmé could probably read them too. _Force, I can’t deal with all of this right now_.

 **Snips:** hey master kenobi i found the shuttle

 **Snips:** can I take it back to the negotiator? skyguy never lets me drive

 **Snips:** please

 **Snips:** can I race rex

 **Snips:** you can ride with me I know you hate his flying

 **Snips:** whoops his ringtone is probably really irritating you right now. sorry master

 **Snips:** its so annoying I swear to the force

 **Snips:** uhhh master plo is calling me what do I do

 **Snips:** shit I think the council is wondering why we haven’t got back to them yet

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing at his temples. He turned to Padmé, not quite meeting her eyes as he ignored the _thud,_ followed by a squawk of indignation, coming from beside him.

“Senator, I _promise_ I can explain.”

She folded her arms, lips twitching. “I would really, _really_ like to hear it.” She paused, considering. “Did I hear Master Kenobi call you-“

* * *

The base lurched mid-sentence, alarms blaring. What looked like clones rushed past them to what were probably fighters—until said fighters went up in flames.

At least, Anakin was pretty sure that was what happened, if the heat and the flame-y sounds coming from that direction were accurate.

He squinted, the pandemonium around him making his head spin. A voice was calling out that they were _under attack, get the Senator to safety_ , and then Obi-Wan was picking him up and dragging him backwards determinedly.

“What’s happening,” he slurred out, half to Obi-Wan and Padmé, half to the Force, half to Ahsoka, wherever she was. _Wait. Too many halves_. But something exploded next to them; then he was flying through the air, an odd technicolor of blues and reds around him that he slowly realized was blaster bolts.

He threw out the Force around him in a desperate attempt to slow his fall. The Force shrugged, allowing him this, and he slowed just enough so that he fell flat on his back, otherwise unharmed. He cast out his senses, trying to get a bearing on whatever the hell was going on.

Obi-Wan’s Force presence was somewhere close, but it was strangely dim and still. Padmé was next to it, doing something; then in the blink of an eye, Ahsoka’s was next to Anakin, the sound of her lightsabers deflecting blaster bolts ringing in his ears. Clones were shouting, and there was the sound of clanging.

Hastily, he grabbed for his own lightsaber, and okay, really? Did the Seps _have_ to attack right now? Did they have some sort of Anakin-sense where they decided to attack whenever it was the _worst_ possible time for him? He sighed, letting instinct take over.

…And grunted as a bolt glanced off his hip, stumbling to the left. Ahsoka got in front of him, snarling.

“Well, I _found_ the stupid thing,” she snapped, by the sound of it undoubtedly doing something awesome. “But Master Kenobi’s down. This is just our luck.”

“Where’s Rex,” he gasped out, head swimming. He could hear the frown in her voice as she looked back at him.

“Rex and Cody are fine. They came running over here- Master, are you alright?”

Anakin nearly went sprawling, using the Force to steady himself. Unintentionally, he Force-pushed a B2 into several B1’s, the collision making a harsh _clang_. A familiar Force-presence sidled up beside him, blasting. “Anakin” was all Rex’s voice got out before he had to duck, rolling away.

Anakin called to the Force again, letting it guide his movements to block. He still couldn't see, but a certain...clarity, came to him, fleetingly. _I can do this. I can still sense where I am_. “Well, I’m a little- visually challenged, right now,” he admitted. The world was a strange swirl of color, nothing focused; like looking out the windows right after you breathed on them and the air was cold. Yes, like staring through fogged-up glass.

Except, behind the fogged-up glass were people trying to kill you. And the world was spinning like a stupid merry-go-round.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean!?”  
  
“Language around your master, Ahsoka.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

He sighed, giving up the fight. Another familiar presence was beside him now, the sound of plastoid armor cracking across a droid’s face filling his ears.

“Well,” Cody said grimly; Anakin got the sense that he was pointing at something. “We’ve got company.”

Anakin frowned, letting the Force attune his hearing even further. Through the sounds of battle, he heard something coming—a clanging noise not unlike that of the droids, only-

It sounded like footsteps.

Ahsoka flipped over his head, blocking something from getting at Cody. “Him, _again_!? I thought we already did this shit! Didn’t he learn his lesson from last time?”

Anakin frowned, putting himself between the noise and the others. He readied his blade, hopeful that he wouldn’t accidentally cut off his own limb, for what would be the third time in his life.

(Hey, the mechanical hand took some getting used to. If Anakin had a credit for every time he cut his own mechanical hand off by accident while adjusting it, he’d have two credits. Which wasn’t a lot, but it was kind of weird that it happened twice).

“And just who,” he said. “Is getting his ass kicked today?”

Through the chaos around them, the footsteps came to a stop, before Anakin heard the sound of lightsabers igniting. A dusky white blob came to a stop, surrounded by a blue-green halo. The Force around it was like a black hole, sucking in around itself. The lights, in particular, felt like little wounds in the Force; belatedly, he realized that it was the feeling of kyber crystals taken away from their masters. Anger boiled in his gut as he realized what this (probably, he still hadn’t got a name) was.

“General Kenobi?”

* * *

So, this was less than ideal.

Usually, though, Grievous would’ve attacked by now. But instead, he was just…standing there, in the middle of the battlefield, waving his sabers at Anakin like some kind of fucked-up traffic light. She felt a scowl take over her face as she came up beside her master.

Anakin _clearly_ wasn’t right, but he was the strongest Jedi she knew. He’d be able to do something. Probably. Right?

Grievous sneered, lowering his body down in a stance that reminded her vaguely of a hunter. “Aren’t you going to reply, Kenobi?”

Anakin spun his own saber in slow circles, lazily dodging a stray blaster bolt. “Sorry. Were you talking to me? I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” He pointed at Grievous in challenge.

…Sort of. Where he pointed was wide left, by more than a few meters.

Ahsoka was _sure_ that would piss Grievous off, so it was to her surprise that he laughed, shrugging his cape off his shoulders. “Really? I’m surprised. I was under the impression that you would be nowhere _near_ here.”

Anakin settled into a Djem So stance; Grievous paused, observing this with curiosity. “Well, you know what they say. I can come quick as you need,” Anakin said confidently.

Cody and Rex stopped fighting for a second, blank visors turning to look at him.

“Wait. That didn’t come out right,” Anakin said, less confidently.

Grievous stared at him for a long moment, confusion palpable. Then he coughed, a hand reflexively coming up to his mouth. Now that Ahsoka thought about it, it was a bit weird that he still acted like he had a mouth. _Did_ he have a mouth? It would have to be a secret mouth, though, because it wasn’t visible.

She shook her head, cursing her runaway thoughts. _Focus, idiot_.

The cyborg straightened up, a slow smugness seeping into his Force signature. “Well. You _are_ easy, after all.”

Ahsoka wished she could plug her montrals.

“I’m sorry- did you just call Obi-Wan _easy_!?” Anakin screeched, the Force welling up around him. Grievous snorted, as well as a cyborg could snort, probably. Ahsoka wasn’t an expert on cyborgs.

“Did the Jedi finally finish lobotomizing you? Talking in the third person is not a good sign for your health.”

Ahsoka scowled. _No_ one talked to Anakin that way, except her. And Master Kenobi. And Rex. And Cody, apparently. And Fives. And Padmé. And R2. And Master Yoda. And Master Windu. And Chancellor Palpatine. And Jocasta Nu.

But only those eleven.

She pushed past Anakin, daring Grievous to come at her. “Oh yeah? And you’re such an expert on health, _asthma boy_?”

Grievous snarled, scraping his foot on the ground like a bull preparing to charge. “Skywalker’s _brat?_ You _too_!?”

“Hey!” Anakin pointed his lightsaber again, this time a little to the right of Grievous. Ahsoka frowned. _Force, is he blind? It’s not like Grievous is hard to miss_. “No one talks to my Padawan that way!”

“Yeah! Except I’m _Anakin’s_ Padawan!”

“That’s, uh- that’s right!”

“Anakin,” Ahsoka hissed. “Why are you facing the _wrong way_?”

But Anakin didn’t answer, jumping between her and Grievous and bringing his blade up to meet the four swinging down. He winced, but stayed standing. “Ahsoka, _get back!_ I can handle this!”

“But-”

“I will be _fine_!”

“Master-“

“ _Now_ , Ahsoka!”

“Ahsoka!” A blaster bolt pinged off Grievous’ face plate, causing him to stumble backwards, roaring. More in annoyance than anything, but still—that was a _hell_ of a shot. She was stunned to see Padmé was the shooter, practically carrying an unconscious Obi-Wan on her back.

She signaled to Cody and Rex, and they sprinted over, firing at the droids as they went.

Rex grabbed Obi-Wan, lifting him onto his shoulders. “Nice to see you, Senator,” he grit out, conversational as could be. “Got any plans for getting out of this mess?”

Padmé fired a few more rounds, going back to back with Ahsoka. “Try to call your fleet!”

Ahsoka stepped in front of Cody, who continued to fire over her shoulder. “I think they’re jamming the signal- I was minding my own damn business,” she grunted, pulling off a rather impressive series of blocks, if she had to say so herself. “Stalling Master Plo, and then he just- cut off!”

Cody snarled, kicking a B2 over. “Kriffing _great_. How long ago was that? Senator, _fall back!_ ”

Padmé responded by firing more bolts, crouching low. “No.”

“For the love of-

“I’m not just going to _leave you_ -“

The sound of a body crashing into fuel barrels drew her attention. Ahsoka scowled.

Technically, she knew that rushing directly at General Grievous—killer of Jedi, famed lightsaber enthusiast, and the self-proclaimed nemesis of Obi-Wan Kenobi—was a terrible idea, one neither she nor any other Jedi would ever recommend. However, she, Ahsoka Tano—killer of droids, famed pancake enthusiast, and self-proclaimed nemesis of Anakin Skywalker’s sanity—was not known for listening to said recommendations, when Anakin was involved.

With a feral screech, she leapt into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry i love general grievous. like im genuinely sorry hes just hilarious. im still not over the fact that he calls obi wan a whore 
> 
> well, he doesn't literally say whore. but remember when obi wans like 'define easy' and grievous is just like *menacingly* 'kenobi'
> 
> like why did they make that the dialogue??? lmfao like they HAD to know what that sounded like. grievous you're an absolute king and i have no choice but to stan
> 
> anyway hope the action isnt terrible


	10. A fighting duck. A warrior duck.

Grievous was having a pretty good day, all things considered.

He’d been doing his usual thing, terrorizing his underlings with an inordinate amount of glee, when he’d received an unexpected transmission from the Count—who seemed entirely unenthusiastic about his orders. Almost as if he was _bored_ with ordering Grievous to kill yet another random Senator. Privately, Grievous wondered if perhaps it was orders from Lord Sidious; it gave him a sort of dark satisfaction to think that Dooku was being made to relay his _own_ master’s orders like some sort of…what had Kenobi called Grievous? _Errand boy?_

Speaking of Kenobi.

Not only had the plan gone off without a hitch, with most of the ships in the detestable base’s hangar blown apart (a medical base? For _clones_?), and the Senator foolishly staying out in the open just _waiting_ to be gunned down; but there was even _better_ news.

His arch-nemesis was here. And, for whatever reason, he was being a fucking idiot.

Grievous narrowly missed chopping Kenobi’s head clean off, the man ducking a half-second before he was decapitated. He seemed to stumble off-balance, trying in vain to stay upright before needing to put a hand out to catch himself on a floor.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem to be struggling, Kenobi. Let me help you with that.” To clarify: by _help_ , he meant _administer a kick directly to his face._

The Jedi flew backwards, smashing painfully into a fuel barrel. Or at least, Grievous _assumed_ it was painful. He’d long forgotten what pain really felt like.

Kenobi groaned, clutching his side in agony. Grievous sighed, taking his time stepping over to him. Briefly, he considered trying to capture the man alive, before dismissing it, mildly disgusted with himself for even entertaining the idea. _He’d just find a way to weasel out of it_.

A B1 appeared at his side, hesitantly raising its blaster. “Uh, sir?” It asked, nasally voice grating on Grievous’ nerves. Ah, well. He was in a good enough mood to let it survive. “Should we blast him?”  
  
“ _No_ , you idiot. The Jedi are _mine_.”  
  
“Roger roger.”

Caught in the midst of debating with himself whether he was actually in a good enough mood not to bash its idiot face in, he almost missed Tano sprinting directly at him, face twisted in a furious scowl. Idly, he wondered where Skywalker was; it was strange for both Kenobi and Tano to be somewhere without him.

He risked a glance down at Kenobi, writhing in pain on the floor. _Eh. I suppose I can leave him for a few minutes to take care of this_.

* * *

Alone, with his heart pounding in his chest, Rex found himself wondering something that he found himself wondering frequently: _Why me?_

Why was it _him_ with Kenobi-as-Anakin draped over his back, having taken him from the Senator to bring him to safety, being chased down a hallway by a bunch of clankers? Sure, Cody’s abruptly-assigned job of protecting a trigger-happy Senator probably wasn’t all that fun either, but at least he got to _fight_.

He panted as he sprinted around a corner, Anakin’s body a dead weight pressing down on him. _Force above, what is he made of? Rocks?_ Carrying one of his brothers was one thing; carrying Anakin, armor and lightsaber included, was another.

His comm came to life, an embarrassingly twangy tune Skywalker had heard somewhere in the Outer Rim and had consequently programmed to play whenever someone rang him. Cursing, he slapped it off and ducked into a storage room. Or, what he _hoped_ was a storage room.

Finding 10 pairs of eyes on him, he decided that it was definitely _not_ a storage room.

His brain quickly reminded him that these were clones, his brothers. Brothers who were injured, and likely wouldn’t be able to defend themselves from attack. What looked like the oldest of them stepped forwards, swallowing. “What’s going on?” The sergeant asked, cradling his arm in a sling.

Force, he didn’t have _time_ for this. Rex dumped Kenobi unceremoniously on a nearby bed, wincing as his head lolled to the side. _Sorry, General_.

“Separatist attack. Clankers inbound. Help?”

 _Very eloquent, Rex_.

The clones looked at each other, setting their shoulders with grim determination.

* * *

“Commander, no!”

Cody decked a droid in the face, ignoring the Senator’s calls to turn tail and flee. _Commander yes_ , he thought, shielding her with his body before ducking them both behind some crates. He grunted, throwing a shoulder into a droid that got too close. “I’m fine, _Senator_.”

A B1’s head exploded next to him, followed by 2 holes appearing in the chest of a B2. Amidala fired behind her as they ran, tapping furiously on her comm, and Cody was briefly thankful that she was such a good shot.

“You have as much self-preservation as Anakin-" her words were cut off as the base shook again, no doubt taking fire from Grievous' fleet. _Force, enough of this_.

“Could you remind me,” he snarled, hurriedly following her down the hall. “What we’re _doing?_ ”

A droid stepped in front of her, wailing in surprise as she blew its head off. “Survive, until help can arrive,” she grit out. “There’s no way of getting a message out." 

"Great. So we're at the mercy of Grievous."

"Not necessarily. I might be able to negotiate with him."

"Right. You realize this is _Grievous_ , right? Not even ol' General _Negotiator_ can negotiate with him."

To his surprise, Amidala snorted, ducking around a corner. "To be honest, I always thought that name was ironic. Considering how much he gets into trouble."

"You know Obi-Wan long? 'Cause that's what I've been trying to tell people. They never listen."

The Senator laughed softly, the sound feeling out-of-place with the alarms blaring around them. "Oh, yeah. We go _way_ back. Long enough for me to know that he's probably never tried actually _negotiating_ with Grievous. But I promise you, I'd have a shot."

"Forget it. I'm not taking you back there to your death." _As opposed to dying here_ , his brain supplied unhelpfully. Cody swallowed the comment; pessimism would do him no favors. By the look of it though, she knew what he was thinking.

"Commander, there are _thousands_ of clones onboard. If I can convince him to just talk-"

"He won't-"

"Or to take me instead-"

"Oh great, now _you_ have a self-sacrificing streak too. Listen, I appreciate it, this willingness to help us clones. But he'll just take you, and then rip the rest of us apart, 'cause there's about as much honor in him as there is living parts. Less, actually, 'cause he's still got a little bit in him. I'm pretty sure he does, at least."

"I promised to _help_ this base."

"You can help us in the Senate. Which, you need to be, you know. Alive for."

Cody counted her fleeting smile at his comment as a win, eyeing the comm she was still fiddling with. “Who’re you calling?”

“I’m _trying_ to call Master Kenobi, to tell him to stall. He’s not answering!”

"Well, I assume he's still unconscious." When Amidala lowered her arm, confused, Cody frowned. "What?"

"It was _Anakin_ who was unconscious." _Oh for the love of- did they not tell her_ _?_

Should _he_ tell her? Perhaps it wasn't the time.

* * *

To be fair, Anakin had a _very_ good reason not to answer: he was calling Rex. Or, he was _trying_ to, when Grievous had stomped cruelly on his arm, splintering the stupid thing into pieces.

Was it just him, or did Grievous have a special sort of grudge for Obi-Wan? Anakin was pretty sure that Grievous had been kicking him around like it was going out of style, not really even trying to cut him to pieces like he did so many other Jedi. _Is he messing with me?_

The thought made him angry, both on his own behalf and Obi-Wan’s. Mostly on his own behalf. But he was a little offended for Obi-Wan, too.

Rolling onto his side, he winced in pain, that horrible Force-presence lingering above him like a disease. Grievous cackled. In all his descriptions of Grievous, Obi-Wan had failed to mention how much he fucking _cackled_.

See, Obi-Wan tended to fixate more on his appearance, saying that he looked like some sort of unholy cross between a Harch, a Lurmen, and a murderous washing-machine. The few times that he _had_ told Anakin more about Grievous’ behavior, it was always either to talk about A) his cowardice, B) his frankly terrifying intellect as a general, or C) his hate-boner for Obi-Wan.

Okay, so Obi-Wan didn’t actually mention anything about a hate-boner. But what _else_ was Anakin supposed to think when Obi-Wan said things like ‘he never has his droids shoot me because he wants me all to himself’ or ‘he says he wants to paint the temple walls with my blood and entrails while you watch’ or ‘he claims that he’s seen better craftsmanship than my lightsaber but that he wants to take and use mine anyway because the memory of skewering me every time he uses it will be just _so_ delightful’.

Anyway.

Blessedly, Grievous was suddenly off his arm, the sound of clashing lightsabers filling the area, and horror slowly dawned on Anakin as he realized that that bright Force-presence going toe-to-toe with this nightmare alone was _Ahsoka_.

He grit his teeth, rolling to his feet with more than a little pain. _Force. I think I broke a rib. If I ever get back to my own body, Obi-Wan’s gonna kill me_. He frowned, making his way over toward the noises of a duel. _Actually, he might just kill me like this_.

Grievous gave a growl of frustration, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a metallic foot smashing into a Togruta’s face. What was this guy’s _problem_? It was like Grievous was trying to kick a goal in the middle of the fight.

Ahsoka skidded beside him, signature spiking with pain before she released it into the Force. Anakin knelt beside her, ignoring the twinge in his side. “Snips? You alright?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” she spat, struggling to her feet. “I was gonna ask _you_ the _same thing!_ ”

“Don’t worry about me,” Anakin said, worried. Force above, this was _not_ ideal. Grievous was laughing _yet again_ , low and menacing, before dissolving into coughs; Anakin took the brief distraction to rack his brain for ideas. _What would Obi-Wan do here? I don’t know how we’re supposed to win. Not while I’m blind, anyway._

A thought itched at the back of his brain, a peculiar memory from early in his apprenticeship. Obi-Wan had taken him down to a seedy area in one of the underlevels of Coruscant on one of their earlier missions, the smell of smoke (and what he later recognized as booze) all around them in the air. He remembered becoming transfixed by a flickering neon light as Obi-Wan was challenged to a game of sabacc; Obi-Wan had said that he’d accepted because it was part of their _cover_ , they were on a _mission_ , and Anakin had just nodded along (not having realized yet that it was more just because his master could never quite back down from a challenge, much as he acted otherwise).

_And he wonders where I got it from. I just don’t bother to hide it._

Somehow, Obi-Wan had been losing, and it looked like they would be out of luck; then, as quickly as he’d been losing, he was winning. Anakin had asked him how he’d done it, how he got so _lucky_.

Then Obi-Wan had said something Anakin had never quite forgotten, a kind of wry smile on his face that Anakin had never seen before ( so he’d taken care to catalogue it, hanging off his master’s every word).

_One of Qui-Gon’s first lessons, my young Padawan, so I suppose I’ll pass it on to you. We are Jedi. When we fight, we try to be fair. We do uphold fairness, after all. But the thing is, we also uphold justice. And sometimes, we need to uphold justice against those who outmatch us._

_That’s when we cheat._

_Now, where did you get that droid from?_

Okay, so usually Anakin left the last part out. And maybe it wasn’t necessarily a lesson Obi-Wan had meant for him to take to heart so thoroughly. Or a lesson that he thought the Council would approve of. Or did it really make sense in context, because Obi-Wan cheating at sabacc probably wasn’t all that necessary for the mission overall.

But _dammit_ , it had served Anakin before, and it would serve him again now. He had a plan.

Time to do what he was like 65% sure Obi-Wan would do. 

He nudged Snips, feeling her surprise in the Force. “Follow my lead.”

* * *

Of all the things Grievous was expecting, he had to say, this wasn’t one of them.

He had been starting to get a little annoyed at Tano, because while she wasn’t doing _great_ against him, she also wasn’t dead yet, and if he had to see the look on the Count’s face when he told him that he’d been bested by a Padawan _again_ …well.

He really wouldn’t prefer that.

(Really, what was this, ‘take your idiot charge’s idiot charge to work day’? How he hadn’t added her lightsabers to his collection already was _beyond_ him. Kenobi at least made sense, a little bit. Not that Grievous would admit to _any_ sort of respect for the man’s skills…but he _was_ considered a master).

So he’d resolved to end this here and now, while both of them were just standing there like the pair of clowns they were.

Then Kenobi had _dropped_.

“Grievous,” he sighed, dramatic even for him. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Why don’t you just _end me now?_ ”

Grievous couldn’t suppress a snort. Was he _serious?_ “Get _up_ , Kenobi. This sort of _cheap trick_ does not become you.”

Skywalker’s Padawan was just as bemused, if the somewhat irked look on her face was any indication. She stared down at her grandmaster, baffled. “ _What_ are you doing,” she remarked flatly, not bothering to lower her voice to even a stage-whisper.

Kenobi closed his eyes, folding his hands over his stomach politely, like he was simply resting rather than doing whatever _this_ was. “I’m giving myself up. Come and get me. I _know_ you want to.”

Grievous ignored the hesitant looks of the B1’s around him, narrowing his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be angry at this ridiculousness, or amused. “Kenobi, this is pathetic, even for you.”

Kenobi stuck his wrists up in the air with flair, as if waiting for handcuffs to be put around them. “Just take me away, _general_.” Why did his voice _lilt_ like that over the last word. Was he…?

“Are you seriously,” Tano said, even flatter than before. “ _Flirting_. With _General Grievous_.”

Grievous spun a lightsaber in a hand, considering. It was laughably obvious that this was a trap. _Too_ obvious. Uncharacteristically so, for a foe who somehow always managed to wriggle his way out of the net of danger, right before it closed around his neck.

Should he play along? Should he simply cut the two of them down, right now? The base was all but taken, and it shouldn’t be _that_ hard to find one measly Senator.

Unfortunately for him, his thoughts were interrupted by a slight complication: a clone jumping onto his back, screaming.

* * *

It was only when Ahsoka had first locked sabers with Grievous that she realized she had no plan.

She had no idea what she would do to disarm him, whether it was disarming him of his weapons, or actually dis-arming him (as in cutting his creepy arms off).

She had no clue how Anakin would react later if she saved him in such a daring way, if he would scold her, or if he would just say something along the lines of ‘holy kriff that was sick’.

She had no clue if there would _be_ a later. Sure, she’d taken on the walking nightmare fuel that was Grievous before, but that was in confined spaces, and he had a penchant for severely underestimating her. With (who he thought was) Master Kenobi around, he may very well have a vested interest in ripping her apart with his bare (could she call them bare if there was no skin?) hands. It wasn’t even really her fault, either. Sure, Grievous hated her like he hated everyone and everything that walked, breathed, coughed, spat, and/or otherwise existed, and she hadn’t exactly tried to endear herself to him, but. Well. Put simply, he was just a little bit obsessed with Master Kenobi.

The worst part (and Anakin agreed) was that Master Kenobi didn’t seem to get that Grievous was particularly unhinged about him. He acknowledged that they had a “history” of fighting each other, but he seemed to think it stopped there. As in, he was genuinely confused when she told him that multiple times, Grievous had lazily ordered his droids to kill her rather than do the job himself, admitting that he had thought it was just Grievous’ _thing_ , to try to kill every Jedi by himself with his magnaguards rather than let anyone else have at them.

(Ahsoka filed it away into the section of Kenobi lore titled ‘self-unawareness’. One day, she would publish it all.)

Planless as she may have been, however, what she _did_ have was adaptability. Which she would need, as things changed _fast_ in war. Before, she was putting up a valiant effort to duel the most notorious Jedi-killer of the Republic, one-on-one.

Now? Her master was doing a highly questionable imitation of Master Kenobi, the base was shaking again, and Rex was riding Grievous around like the leader of the Separatist Army was a possessed blurrg.

* * *

So maybe it wasn’t Rex’s best plan.

Still, a vod had to at least _try_ , right?

Hewasn’t much up to just running and hiding, watching as the Seps slaughtered his brothers and friends and Anakin like sitting ducks. So he and the injured clones had fought. They’d picked up their weapons and fought their way back to where the main fight was, right back towards the monster that _dared_ attack his brothers while they were down.

If Rex was going to be slaughtered like a duck, then he would make sure that when he went down, he’d take that cowardly chicken Grievous with him. He wouldn’t just be any old duck; he’d be a fighting duck. A warrior duck. A- now he was just describing a goose.

Alright, so he’d go down like a goose. Charging at and attacking an enemy thrice his size with nothing but supreme overconfidence in the face of death incarnate, a desire to protect, and his blasters. All while as pissed-off as he could get.

As he jumped on Grievous' back, wrapped his arms around the cyborg's neck, and _pulled_ , the last thought he had was: _Goose would’ve made a good name for me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this got long whoops
> 
> getting back to stupid shenanigans soon! I say that as if this isn't also stupid shenanigans
> 
> one of the best star wars ships is padme/bonding with someone over how anakin and obi wan are dumbasses


	11. That's not how temporary blindness works

Become general of the Separatist army, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

As Grievous bellowed in rage, thrashing back and forth in an attempt to dislodge the clone screaming _coward_ in his ear sockets while cannon fire rained down from space, he found that he was starting to regret this just a little bit.

Sith hells. He _hated_ clones.

“Get,” he roared, “ _Off!_ ” He glared hatefully at the battle droids, who were haplessly wailing in despair as Republic fighters descended. _Ah, yes. I hate these idiots even more_. “Shoot him, you fools!"

“But sir,” one complained. “What if we shoot you?”  
  
“ _Does that seem like the most pressing issue right now!?_ ”

With a sinking feeling, he realized that he would almost definitely be getting a harsh reprimand from the Count for how quickly this was going to shit—because somehow, some sort of reinforcement had arrived. He caught sight of his flagship; it was blessedly still intact, though a Republic cruiser had appeared from nowhere, how in the _Sith hells_ -

Oh, fuck this. He crouched down and spun his arms around, intending to gore the idiot still screaming in his ear.

…And found himself blocked. Tano appeared in front of him with a confident smirk, catching his saber on her own and flicking her wrists to sever one of his right hands.

This mission was stupid, anyway.

“You heard the boss! Blast him!”

“Wait- _no!_ ”

* * *

Grievous screeched, whether in pain or not Ahsoka wasn’t sure; then he twisted unnaturally, finally throwing Rex off as he _skittered_ away. _Force, that never stops being freaky._ She reached out with the Force to catch Rex, gently lowering him to the ground; when she looked up, Grievous was nowhere in sight.

 _How does he literally always get away so fast? Top ten unsolved mysteries of the galaxy_ , she thought, the Force thrumming through her as if it felt the tide of battle shifting in their favor. She couldn’t help a grin from breaking out as Rex joined her in making quick work of the droids foolish enough to be left behind.

“All good over there? That was _sick_.”

Rex panted, signature wild-eyed with exhilaration. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Her chest swelled with fondness as she spun around, protecting their flank. “I can’t either. I mean, I’m not really sure what that _was_ , but it worked!”

“Did we get him?”

Ahsoka grimaced, glancing down at the lifeless hand she’d removed as she stabbed through the last of their enemies. _Hey, I guess I did dis-arm him_. “Not quite—I did get a piece of him, though. No offense, Rex but what kind of plan was _that_?”

He put his hands on his knees, still breathing hard. “Cody told me about it. Apparently the boys have scared Grievous off before by dog piling him, so I…figured I’d take a shot.”

“By yourself?”

“I had help getting here. And I had you this time. You didn't think I'd leave you two without any backup, did you?” He frowned as something past her shoulder caught his eye. “Uh…is Anakin alright?”

“Anakin is fine,” Anakin responded, appearing behind her; Ahsoka most definitely did _not_ jump. “Anyone wanna tell me what just happened? Did my plan work?”

“Your- master, that was _not_ a plan.”

“Well I had to do _something_.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve done literally anything else. You traumatized your Padawan.”

Rex’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing over at the unexpected reinforcements milling about the hangar. “What did you do? Who _are_ these people?”

“Clones,” Anakin said, cheerfully.

“Well, I _knew_ that.”

“He tried to flirt with Grievous,” Ahsoka added, hiding a smile as Rex pondered the implications involved with no small amount of horror. Anakin crossed his arms defensively.

“And what about it?”

Rex put his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I can tell you’re judging me.”

“I’m _not_. I mean, my plan was more daring, but it wasn’t any more well-put together.”

“I can literally sense your emotions, liar.”

“Well, I suppose I’m judging your brain, a bit. Because I think it might be a bit damaged.”

“Hey! Er- hold on, a second. Wouldn’t that mean it’s _Obi-Wan’s_ brain that’s damaged?” Anakin went wide-eyed, panic spiking the Force. “ _Obi-Wan_. Where the hell is Obi-Wan!?”

“I, uh. Stowed him away. Don’t look at me like that, he’s fine! I think. Probably.” As Anakin pulled at his hair, a few strands coming loose (and Ahsoka had to admit that she was just a little bit thankful that Obi-Wan wasn’t here to get into an argument about it with Anakin), Rex crossed his arms, mirroring him. “You _needed_ my help, so don’t- can we just- _not_ mention this to Cody? I don’t want to get skinned.”

“Now that you mention it, where _is_ Cody? And Padmé, for that matter?” Anakin began to pace, wincing every now and then as he aggravated something. Rex watched him a few seconds before grabbing at his arm, forcing him to halt.

“I don’t think you should be doing that.”

Ahsoka twitched, relief flooding her as she got a closer look at the reinforcements’ armor. “Guys, I think I know who our saviors are.” She waved a hand enthusiastically, almost smacking Anakin by mistake.

“Hold on, I’m gonna try to sense Obi-Wan.” She rolled her eyes, giving him a mental nudge. “What?”

“Check out who it is!”

“…Are you pointing at something?”

Oh. Right.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke up in a strange room, with a pounding headache, and with Jedi Master and High Councillor Plo Koon staring down at him radiating something that was either disapproval or concern.

_Ah. So just like my early 20s._

He immediately shut his eyes again, the thought fleetingly crossing his mind to pass himself off as still sleeping; he wasn’t exactly in the mood or state of mind to deal with whatever consequences were surely coming for him (for… something? He couldn’t quite remember what). But a finger poking him between the ribs quickly dispelled that notion.

Blearily, his eyes blinked open, resigned to the fact that he had to face the as-of-yet undetermined shame. “Hello, Master,” he mumbled, trying his best to seem gracious. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Plo inclined his head, an amused presence brushing up against his own. “It’s a pleasure to see you too,” he rumbled. Obi-Wan propped himself up on his elbows, feeling a bit chastised despite himself.

“What happened?”

“Before I tell you, promise me you won’t overreact. I don’t want to have to stop you from storming off.” Obi-Wan sat up, wincing as the world swayed in front of him.

“Master, when do I _ever_ storm off?”

Plo’s only answer was a very pointed silence, putting an acquiescing hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan shut his eyes briefly, centering himself on the feeling before getting to his feet.

Or at least, he tried to. He nearly faceplanted, saved just in time by Plo snagging him around the chest and pulling him upright. He closed his eyes, half-wishing he could be thrown out into the vacuum of space.

If Plo could’ve raised an eyebrow, Obi-Wan was certain he would’ve. “Never mind. I don’t think you’ll be doing any storming off anytime soon.”

Alright, so technically, it wasn’t really the Jedi way to be _spiteful_. But Obi-Wan had never been perfect at following all of that anyway, so if he tried to spitefully straighten up and spitefully stride out the door with spiteful purpose, and _without_ assistance, well. It wouldn’t be entirely out of (spiteful) character for himself, he decided.

Besides, he knew that Plo wouldn't feel the need to begrudge him a little vanity. Or, well, he wouldn’t have been. Vertigo left Obi-Wan leaning against the doorframe, grateful that the other Jedi wasn’t indulging in any _I told you sos_. Plo patted him on the arm, reassuring.

“Take your time.”

“Oh, leave me alone.”

“I was told you took quite the hit to the head.”

“Seems like I’m doing that a lot lately.” He ignored the feeling of concern twisting over from Plo, rubbing his temple wearily (and being less than amused to find red on his hand when he drew it away). Something nagged at him, the Force’s uncharacteristic loudness in his ears making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Who told you?”

Plo’s next words were careful, as if Obi-Wan was an Akk-dog that would be frightened away if he wasn’t calm enough, and _really? I’m not that much of an anxious wreck_ , he thought, mildly irritated.

“Commander Cody, and the Senator. Before you react, know that they’re both fine.”

Worry immediately spiked in his chest, providing new vigor to his limbs; he started off in a random direction, momentarily forgetting that he had no idea where he was going, or where he even was. Plo audibly sighed, hovering at his shoulder without touching him. “I just told you, they’re _fine_. So are the others.”

“The others- _Anakin_. He was- I’m sorry, I must be going.”

Later, Obi-Wan privately admitted to himself that he had absolutely no idea how it happened. One minute, he was breaking out into an anxious stride, aimlessly wandering down the hall in what he was fairly certain was the direction of Anakin. The next, he was being lifted off his feet and turned in the _opposite_ direction, Plo half-slinging him over his shoulder.

“What- Plo, put me _down!_ ”

“You were heading for the laundry room. The hangar is this way.”

“Alright, I can make it there _on my own_.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” a blessedly (or perhaps cursedly) familiar voice said, and Obi-Wan craned his neck to find Cody watching him with unrestrained glee. “This is _fantastic_.”

“It most definitely is _not_. Traitor.”

Cody fell into step beside the Jedi master, who was humming contentedly and ignoring Obi-Wan trying to kick him. He laughed as Obi-Wan took a halfhearted swipe, ducking out of the way. “This is gonna give us so much material to make fun of the 501st, you have _no_ idea.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be of assistance,” he snarked, wondering if Plo was planning on letting him have at least a _little_ dignity and would put him down before the clones, or worse, _Anakin and Ahsoka,_ saw this. He supposed the upside was that Cody’s posture was lighter than he’d seen it in months, practically swinging his arms as he sauntered along; if the sight of it improved Obi-Wan’s mood substantially, well, he wouldn’t say.

“Oh, chin up. Skywalker would’ve taken that blast if it wasn’t for you. So, technically...I guess you kind of saved yourself? Funny how that works.”

“Yes, _hilarious_.” Cody couldn’t keep it in any longer at that, snickering to himself. A few clones passing by gave him odd looks, which were promptly ignored; then, to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Plo rumbled with laughter himself, producing an odd but not unpleasant vibration.

“I must say, I haven’t seen anything like this in my years. Can you walk for yourself to the medical shuttle? It’s a short distance."

“No, he can’t.”

“ _Cody!_ ”

“Well, that settles it then.”

“I hate both of you.”

“Hate is not our way, Obi-Wan.”

* * *

Ahsoka’s hands were steady on Anakin’s face as she applied the batch patch, signature tinged with apology when he flinched at the sting. “Sorry, master.”

Anakin couldn’t help the whiny note that snuck into his voice as he squinted at her. Definition had begun to creep back into his eyes, the distinctive shapes and coloring of her montrals slightly dizzying. “It’s okay. It’s just that everything hurts and I’m dying.” A twinge of exasperation in the Force made him elbow her.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You rolled your eyes at me, I can feel it. I deserve more _respect_.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Did too.”

“Did not! How would you even know? You’re _blind!_ ”

“Not blind enough to not see your _offense_.”

“That’s not how temporary blindness _works._ ”

“If I might give some advice,” the 104th’s medic muttered. “Try not to elbow the one healing you.”

Ahsoka poked Anakin in the forehead, amused. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve been _telling_ him.”

“You have not said that once in your life, my little Padawan.”

“Well I was thinking it, my large master.”

"Your 'large master'?"

"It was that, or old."

“ _Hey_. I’m not that old. It’s _Obi-Wan_ that’s old.”

The medic next to them frowned (what was his name? Fry-something? Anakin was ashamed to admit he’d forgotten). “Wait. I thought _you_ were General Kenobi.”

“Oh, I am. Except not right now. Right now I’m General Skywalker.”

Fry-the-medic blinked. “…Right.” Ahsoka sighed, finishing pressing the patch on.

“I promise you it makes sense in context. Since I guess we’re not really bothering to hide it anymore, this is Anakin Skywalker. Except not really. The body is General Kenobi’s. It’s Anakin controlling it.”

Wide-eyed, Fry-whatever shuffled a slight step back. “I heard about Jedi doing mind control. I didn’t know you could do it to _each other_ , though.”

“No, we can’t- oh, never mind. Snips, hear from the man himself yet?”

“Nope,” she said, hopping up on a crate and dangling her legs over the edge. “Rex said Cody said he’s fine, though.”

“Is Cody there with him?”

But she didn’t answer, the Force suddenly brimming with _something_ ; belatedly, he realized it was suppressed laughter, and he felt a shiver run down his back, as if the Force was laughing at him. “What is it?”

“Oh, master, you- you have to see this.”

“ _What?_ ”

“You look like a newborn _bantha_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clone or jedi: *exists*
> 
> plo koon: my child now


	12. That was more of a dramatic groan than anything

In a strange reversal of their usual positions, Anakin’s eyes stared _up_ at her, upside down from where his head was rested against Master Plo’s arm. She couldn’t help but lean down a bit to be at Master Kenobi’s eye level, grinning when he raised an eyebrow, amused.

“I’m pleased to see you unharmed, young one,” he remarked, nonchalant as ever. Ahsoka’s mouth twitched, quickly becoming a snort when she spotted Cody’s subtle eye roll behind him.

“Good to see you…uh.” She paused, unsure how to continue. Because she’d been about to finish the sentence with _unharmed too_ , except he _did_ look a little harmed, to be honest. Her face still stung a bit from where it had glanced off of Grievous’ foot; but at the very least, she was luckier than Anakin, who winced if he breathed too deeply. The cyborg hadn’t had a direct hit on any part of her, other than maybe her pride.

He offered her a wry smile, one that she caught him giving Anakin sometimes, like he could tell what she was thinking. “It’s really not as bad as it looks.”

“Isn’t it?”

Master Kenobi craned his neck to look at Padmé, who at some point had meandered over, no doubt attracted to the small commotion they were making. Ahsoka, meanwhile, resisted the urge to kick Anakin, and that was only because he looked like a slight wind might blow him over. Seriously, he’d _introduced_ Ahsoka to Padmé, why was he always so kriffing jumpy around her? Although, granted, Ahsoka and Padmé were the ones who carried 95% of the conversation when he’d introduced them. As well as during all subsequent interactions.

Strangely, Cody came up beside the Senator, arms folded neatly behind his back; the two of them exchanged knowing looks.

“I’m…glad to see you’re alright, Padmé,” Master Kenobi offered. He tried to sit up, glaring at Plo in annoyance when the grip around him subtly tightened, preventing him from doing so. Padmé looked at Master Kenobi; then she looked at Anakin; then she glanced at Cody, both of them apparently finding something rather funny.

“Why, thank you, er… Anakin.”

Ahsoka frowned, unable to place the note in Padmé’s voice; Master Kenobi was just as uncertain, if his dazed look was any indication (either that, or he was severely concussed, which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility). Anakin, meanwhile, was looking anywhere but at the Senator, as if it would somehow make her disappear.

“You’re…welcome,” Master Kenobi replied slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Padmé considered him for a moment; then she reached out and patted him on the chest once or twice, careful not to disturb his positioning. He stared down at her hand in thought, gears visibly turning in his head.

Anakin made a choked noise, followed by a grunt; he must have jerked in surprise, aggravating his ribs again. Really, Ahsoka should probably have checked on him, being a dutiful Padawan and all, but she didn’t really want to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. 

Padmé brought a hand to her chin, contemplative. “Master Plo?”

Plo, who had been suspiciously quiet during the whole exchange, hummed. “Yes?”

“You’re giving me a lift to Coruscant, right? I’ll have to report this attack to the Senate.”

“Indeed we will,” he confirmed, a note of curiosity in his voice. Padmé nodded to herself, tapping her fingers on her wrist in thought.

“That’s- good, then, thank you.” She quirked her lips in a smile, and Ahsoka could’ve sworn she’d winked at Master Kenobi. “I suppose you all are all going, too? Plenty of time to talk, _Anakin_. As in- to fill you in on what happened, I mean.” Anakin gulped, and once again, Ahsoka was given the distinct urge to kick him.

Plo hummed. “Indeed, they are coming with me. Technically, everyone here was supposed to be on Coruscant hours ago.” He let the statement hang in the air, prompting Anakin to shift uncomfortably.

“Right. We should. Leave.” He coughed. “Wait, where’s Rex?” Thankfully, he didn’t seem to catch Padmé’s muttered _oh now he speaks_.

“With the _Twilight_ ,” Ahsoka answered, absentmindedly tapping her foot against a crate; her attention was drawn by the sound of Master Kenobi groaning.

Plo seemed to hold on to him a little tighter. “Are you alright?” His Force-signature twinged with bemusement when Anakin sighed loudly.

“He’s _fine_. That was more of a _dramatic_ groan than anything.”

True to Anakin’s word, the older (younger? Ahsoka was tired) Jedi sighed, casually splaying himself out a little further in a subtle attempt to dislodge himself from Plo’s grip. He was unsuccessful. “How is it that blasted thing survives every single time? By all odds it should be _long_ blown up by now.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ahsoka spotted Padmé nudging Cody, as if to say _get a load of this_ ; she wasn’t sure what it was for until Anakin jumped down from his seat with renewed vigor.

“Hey! That ‘blasted thing’ is an intergalactic treasure!”

Ahsoka couldn’t help but find herself agreeing with Anakin. Not necessarily with the sentiment, but because the time spent fixing the _Twilight_ accounted for what she estimated to be about 30% of her and Anakin’s non-violent bonding time. And that was on top of the ship’s unofficial status as an illegal brewery; the men would miss it greatly were it to disappear. Furthermore, it was about the only place you could go on the _Negotiator_ to do your best Master Kenobi impressions without a 212th clone giving you a nasty look.

(Apparently, mocking General Kenobi impressions were the 212th’s thing, and the 212th’s thing _only_. Kind of like how any comments about General Secura’s lack of armor would make you the 327th’s public enemy number one. Or Anakin cringe compilations were a 501st specialty. Or how the 104th were the only ones who got to use the whole ‘wolf’ motif. There were just _lines_ you didn’t cross. At least not where people could see you do it).

Master Kenobi folded his hands neatly, resting them calmly on his abdomen even as he bickered with Anakin. “If that thing is an intergalactic treasure, then I’m General Grievous.”

Anakin squinted. “Is that some kind of _phrase_ I don't know about? That’s the second time it’s come up today.” Cody shuffled his feet.

“The more you deal with that coward, the more you’ll find he’s a source of humor.” He frowned when Anakin winced and rubbed his side. “What did you _do_ to me?”

“Y’know, it’s funny you mention Grievous.”

“…Why.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Wait.” Anakin squinted up at Master Plo. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

Master Plo sighed. “I was trying to keep him from overreacting.”

“Overreacting to _what?_ ”

“Okay, just know that we won, he’s totally off licking his wounds somewhere-”

“ _Anakin_.”

“Before you two get started on whatever… _this_ is,” Padmé cut in, “Are either of you going to address the fact that you switched bodies? As in, were either of you planning on explaining that little detail at any point? I’m not mad, just curious.”

When neither of them responded, Anakin too worried about dancing around the fact that they’d been attacked by Grievous, and Master Kenobi probably just trying to not be concussed or look at the lights too much or something, Ahsoka grimaced apologetically. “Sorry, Senator, uh… Argument incoming. They probably won’t be done for a while.” Padmé sighed.

“Yeah, I thought as much. In retrospect, I really should’ve guessed this was what was happening. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Anakin look quite so composed.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Cody chimed, “I’m still not _fully_ convinced.” The Senator pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Quite the realist, aren’t you?”  
  
“Some would say too much.”

“Some meaning Obi-Wan?”  
  
“…Maybe.”

Master Plo sighed, shifting Master Kenobi up higher. “Did you want to take this… _Twilight_ , Ahsoka?”

“Ahsoka is _not_ driving. Rex is,” Anakin cut in. Master Kenobi rolled his eyes.

“Anakin, just _why_ is she not allowed to drive that abomination? I should hope you aren’t judging her for reckless flying, of all things”

“Well if I don’t do that, then _you_ can’t blame me for- certain battle strategies, alright?”

“That’s not what I- Anakin. What did you _do?_ ”

“Nothing _you_ wouldn’t! I think.”

 _Oh Force above, enough of this_. “He tried flirting with General Grievous,” Ahsoka blurted, jumping away and laughing before he could elbow her.

“Snips, you _traitor!_ ”

“It was gonna come out _somehow_!”

“Okay, but I was gonna break the news a little gentler-”

“Just rip the bacta patch off-”

“I think I’m- I mean _he’s_ concussed-“

“…Did it work?”

Both of their heads whipped around to stare openly at Master Kenobi; the others present weren’t much better. He heaved another sigh, eyes fluttering shut, and Ahsoka got the distinct feeling that he was rubbing his temples despite both of his hands being folded in his lap. Anakin pursed his lips.

“You don’t seem annoyed about it,” he commented, after a beat of silence. He exchanged a glance with Ahsoka. “I _really_ think he might be concussed,” he whispered loudly.

Master Kenobi’s eyes opened to slits, the level of _unimpressed_ conveyed by a singular look rather impressive. Ahsoka mentally jotted it down in the corner of Kenobi lore labeled ‘learn how to replicate later’.

“Well, I assume you saw _something_ worth exploiting. It’s just not usually the tactic I take for Grievous, of all people. But I trust your judgment.” His brow furrowed when Anakin averted his gaze, examining a spot on the floor with intensity. “You… _did_ have a reason for doing that, right? Obviously it was successful. You’re alright—all things considered, of course.”

Anakin winced. “Okay, don’t freak out.”

“…Anakin, _tell_ me it worked.”

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t, uh…know.”

“You _what_.”

“I couldn’t _see_ him, exactly-”

Master Kenobi stared at him, incredulous. “What the _fuck_ does that mean?” When Plo grunted with disapproval, he grimaced. “Apologies, Master.”

“Look, it all worked out! Mostly. I mean, he got away, but- _Rex_ is the one who _jumped on his back without a weapon!_ ”

“And just where do you think he gets that recklessness from? Cody doesn’t jump on Grievous!” Cody raised a hand. “Unless he has a group to do it with,” Master Kenobi amended.

“He’s right,” Cody interjected, pointedly having no reaction to Anakin glaring at him other than a twitch of the lips. He nudged the Senator with a shoulder. “As charming in this is, I think I should help you get situated. Ever flown on the _Twilight_ before?”

Padmé wrinkled her nose. “I am _not_ flying on that thing.” Cody shrugged, turning around on a heel.

“Your loss. General Koon, which ship is the Senator taking?”

“Any of them,” Plo replied, sounding a bit dazed. “Will one of you please point me to where this infamous _Twilight_ is? My arms are tiring a bit.”

“I think I’m just gonna exit…this,” Fryer, the 104th’s medic—who, until now, had been content to watch the proceedings in front of him with something akin to enjoyment—mumbled to himself. He gestured to Cody. “Come with me.”

As they left, Ahsoka cheerfully pranced over to Master Plo, baring her teeth in a smile at Anakin. He made a face in retaliation. “I can show you, Master Plo! And if it’s any consolation Master Kenobi, I _did_ cut Grievous’ hand off.”

“That’s good,” he murmured. “Force above, he’s going to give me _so_ much shit the next time we meet. At least _someone_ ,” he said, glaring at Anakin, “Gives me material to use against _him_ , rather than the other way around.”

“I’m starting to be a bit concerned about you,” Master Plo rumbled, to no one in particular.

“Hey, I was fighting _blind!_ At least I kept you alive!”

“Well, ‘alive’ is relative.”

“Very funny.”

“Yes, I find myself hilarious.”

“Oh, _I know_.”

“I do not think that arguing,” Master Plo sighed, keeping careful watch of Anakin strolling a short ways behind him, “Is doing either of you any favors.” Anakin scoffed, not watching where he was going and nearly tripping over a crate.

“What _ever_ do you mean, Master? Clearly, we’re handling this just _fabulously_.”

“Hm. Sarcasm aside, young one, I do believe you’ve done an admirable job considering the…circumstances.”

Anakin blinked at the praise, forgetting to speak for several seconds. “Uh…thanks,” he replied lamely, cringing at himself, and yeah, Ahsoka could relate. Blessedly, Master Plo continued on as if he had said nothing.

“I would like to take a look at the root of this mess—perhaps by examining that artifact, we can uncover its purpose. And, more importantly, its function.” When no one said anything, he hummed pleasantly. “I assumed that’s why you are all here? The Council was worried it might become misplaced.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth, ready to offer something that would undoubtedly be a feeble excuse; to her relief, Master Kenobi came to her rescue, groaning again.

“To be completely honest,” he interjected, “I completely fucking forgot about that stupid thing.” She did her best to send him a wave of gratefulness in the Force, amused to find Anakin doing the same thing.

“ _Master Kenobi_.”

“Master Plo, it has been a _long day_.”

“It has been roughly six hours since you contacted us.”

“…Really? That short? I could swear it was longer.”

While they argued/conversed/Plo gently chided his fellow Master/whatever else it was they were doing, Anakin squinted at her, drawing a rough outline of the artifact in the air with his hands. Ahsoka shot him a questioning look back, jerking her head in the direction of where she sensed it. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and sending her his best _no way in the Sith hells I’m doing that_ through the Force.

 _“Then why would I want to do it_ ,” she muttered to herself, sighing when she saw the state of the wreckage surrounding where its signature came from. _That’s gonna take a while to sift through_. She raised an eyebrow in challenge, holding up a closed fist in her palm. Her master wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not playing rock-flimsi-scissors with you, you’re the one who knows how to find it!”

“But I _always_ have to find it! You go get it for once!”

“Well _I’m_ not the one who-” Anakin paused, realizing Master Plo was there. He’d no doubt been about to say something incriminating about her role in this mess, stopping himself just in time to preserve her innocence, and despite herself she felt a wave of affection crash over her. _Fine. But only because I’m behind you in the favor count_.

“Yeah, I get it, you’re not the one who can track worth a womp rat’s- tail,” she finished, mindful of the fact that Master Plo’s current vibe was ‘might actually physically attack Anakin if she swore right now’. “Guess I’ll go find it. _Again_.”

“Thanks, Snips. I would do it, but I don’t think my uh. Ribs, would agree. Grievous kind of made me his kickball.”

“He does love doing that, doesn’t he,” Master Kenobi muttered, a distant note in his voice, as if he were remembering something unpleasant. “At least the kicks only make you bleed internally. Where the blood is supposed to be.” Anakin nodded sagely.

Master Plo shook his head, no doubt about to launch into a lecture before he was distracted by the (somehow completely unharmed) ship in front of him. He examined it with tangible skepticism.

“This is the ship I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Anakin beamed. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“…Lovely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of 'kriff' being like the 'heck' to fuck's 'hell' if you know what I mean. At least half of Star Wars could be improved by the possibility of an f-bomb occurring.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy! story's almost over


	13. you seemed a bit…shall we say, frazzled

Rex frowned, nudging Anakin with a foot. “Er…Anakin?”

Anakin stared up at him from where he was sprawled out on the floor of the training salle, his master’s lightsaber half-deconstructed in his hands. “Yes?”

Hesitantly, he sat down next to him, crossing his legs and doing his best to mimic the pose he’d seen General Koon take on the trip back to Coruscant. The Jedi Master had recommended that they all ‘take the length of the trip as an opportunity to center ourselves prior to our arrival’, after saying something about how the _Negotiator_ and the _Resolute_ were both safe back at the capitol awaiting them. And probably something along the lines of how they shouldn’t worry about things they couldn’t control.

(Probably. He probably said something like that. Rex hadn’t really been paying all that much attention, too concerned with being uncentered and worrying about things he couldn’t control.)

Namely, what Rex worried about was Anakin. Well, he more worried about Anakin worrying. Because Anakin worried about _everything_.

He certainly did his best to hide it, at any rate. And often, he was successful. The Hero with No Fear. Knowing what he did, Rex hadn’t thought it could be anything but a cruel joke when he first heard the moniker; it was a bit of a whiplash when he realized just how many people _believed_ it.

He took some small amount of comfort in the fact that Ahsoka seemed to have realized it, somewhere along the line. And he wasn’t exactly sure _what_ had happened between Anakin and that Senator, but by the knowing glances they’d exchanged with each other in passing on Koon’s flagship, he felt like at least _one_ other person understood. He’d have to find a way to speak to her, sometime.

The problem, Rex found, was with General Kenobi.

Now, General Kenobi _himself_ wasn’t a problem (well, Cody would probably dispute this. Probably with an itemized list labeled something like ‘instances that would have resolved themselves in completely normal fashion if _someone_ could’ve just kept his mouth shut’). The problem was that, for the life of him, Rex had no fucking clue what that man was thinking half the time.

Not that he was an idiot (Cody would also dispute this, affectionately), but that whatever his and Anakin’s relationship was, whenever Rex tried to read something into it, he was almost always proven wrong about a half-second later.

One minute, Kenobi would be completely unflappable, in a contrast to Anakin, who had probably worried about every topic ever, at least once. Then a switch would flip, and suddenly it was General Kenobi worriedly asking Anakin something about himself—while Anakin did the mental equivalent of backflipping away.

It was like a pattern, one they had fallen into some time over the years and never could quite get out of. It involved insulting and praising each other in the same breath, light banter about life-altering decisions, random sparring sessions that usually resulted in wanton destruction of Republic property, arguing over who _really_ won that spar when Anakin had disarmed General Kenobi but General Kenobi had managed to make him trip and fall on his face, arguing over who had the better lightsaber design (Anakin, in Rex’s opinion), arguing over who had better taste in music (General Kenobi, because if Rex had to hear that stupid ringtone _one more time_ ), arguing over which battalion had better nose art (Rex hadn’t had the heart to tell them that most of the GAR already had conceded that title to the 104th), arguing over whether Rex or Cody had killed more droids (Cody, the bastard, had him by a few; Rex intended to remedy that soon), arguing for the sake of arguing, and, on one very odd instance, arguing over who had the better Padawan (featuring some _very_ weird dynamics in which both General Kenobi and Ahsoka had tried convincing Anakin that he was a better Padawan than she was, much to the chagrin of the other twelve Jedi in attendance at the time).

And that was just the start of it.

Then, just when Rex, your not-so-average-nor-so-casual observer, started to think that maybe, just _maybe_ they would get somewhere, this time? A Sith would blow up a base or whatever and any possible resolution for anything would go down the drain, ready to be dredged up the next time they were bored.

Inevitably, it would result in Anakin either aggressively fixing something, trying to make out with Rex in a frankly terrible place to try to make out, or both at the same time. Once, Rex had tried to tell him that _maybe_ he should try following up on that one thing with General Kenobi, just this once? Anakin had given his most betrayed look he could muster, and then had literally jumped out the window.

So. Progress.

(Seriously, Kenobi _had_ to be aware of Anakin’s emotional state on _some_ level, right? Maybe he was almost too close to it, in a way. Maybe they were too close to _each other_.)

“Are you…how are you?”

Anakin blinked, staring down at the lightsaber in his hands. “Fine.”

“Did you…want to talk about it?”

He flipped a switch on the saber, worrying at his lip. “Talk about what.”

Resisting the urge to thump his head on the floor, Rex rolled over on his side instead, trying to to no avail to catch his eye. “Any of it. The whole ‘switching bodies’ thing. The fact that you fought Grievous blind, and won, kind of. What having a beard feels like.”

Anakin remained silent, peering into the inner chambers of the lightsaber with his eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked to Rex, as if searching for something; then, he was back to probing at the weapon, mouth creased in a thin line. “The emitter matrix is cracked. Must’ve happened when I got kicked.”

“You got _kicked_?”

“Apparently Grievous likes dragging out his and Obi-Wan’s fights. Probably the best part of his day, to be honest.” He squinted, the faint glow of the lightsaber’s crystal casting an eerie halo around his face. “I need to fix this, stat.”

Rex sighed, picking up a piece to inspect. Realizing that he had no idea what it was for, he set it down as nonchalantly as he could. “I’d like to think General Kenobi can fix his lightsaber by himself.”

Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Oh, he can. I’ll just do it better.”

“Sounds…a bit sacrilegious, to say that,” Rex joked, watching as Anakin tensed. “Sorry, did I-”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Anakin grunted in concentration, hovering his fingers over the lightsaber. “If anything, you hit the nail on the head. I’m not supposed to do this.”

“Yet you continue to do it.”

The Jedi pursed his lips, for a moment almost appearing apologetic. He shook himself, sighing. Look, lemme just—fix the emitter. Things could go bad if I don’t.”

Privately wondering how things could go _much_ worse, Rex scratched at his cheek, not quite sure what to do with his hands. “What kind of things?”

“As in, lightsaber goes ‘boom’, and by extension my dear old master.”

“…Oh.”

Anakin grit his teeth, focusing intently. “Or, who knows? Maybe it’d be _me_ going boom. ‘Cause I don’t see how we’ll switch back any time soon.”

“General Koon said he might have an idea about it. I’m sure he’ll figure it out-”

“But what if he _doesn’t_ ,” Anakin countered, grimacing as his voice cracked on the last syllable. “What if we’re both stuck like this forever?” He hunched his shoulders, sulking even as he used the Force to finally extract the emitter matrix, or whatever it was called. A grim smile crossed his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “At least I can make progress on _something_.”

Deciding that that was probably the best answer he was going to get, Rex sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. To his surprise, it was decorated with murals and paintings, depicting Jedi of all shapes and sizes with various lightsabers in ancient-looking action poses. “Pretty,” came out unprompted.

Anakin paused, raising an eyebrow. He tracked Rex’s line of sight, examining the murals with a keen eye. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s a shame this one isn’t really used anymore.”

“It isn’t?”

“There aren’t enough Padawans to occupy it.”

At that, they both fell silent, an unsettling feeling dropping in Rex’s gut. He traced the lines of the art with his eyes, fascinated by the swirls of color and iridescent paint of the lightsabers. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he began, after a short while.

Anakin shrugged, turning over a lightsaber piece in his hands. “It _is_ kind of cool, I suppose. I’ve just seen it so many times that it’s kind of lost the effect.”

Rex hummed, still wide-eyed. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at this. The ceilings on Kamino are all this one shade of grey. Or, sometimes, if they were feeling adventurous, a shade of _light_ grey. Maybe even white.”

Anakin snorted. “Sounds exciting."

“Oh, it is.”

“You should see some of the stuff in the Chancellor’s office. It’s a bunch of ancient Naboo art—pretty wizard, I gotta say.” He leaned back, holding up the lightsaber piece to the light filtering in from the windows. “Should I fuse this? It might be easier to just get a new one.”

“You could always…you know. Ask General Kenobi about his own lightsaber.”

“I’d rather not get a lecture, thank you very much.” He carded a hand through his hair, sighing. “I wish I could talk to the Chancellor about this.”

Rex exhaled, thinking back with a grimace. “Yeah, uh. It’s probably best that you don’t, though.”

* * *

_Earlier that day_

“Chancellor!”

Sidious plastered on the most pleasant of his many smiles, turning around. Anakin’s Force-presence announced itself loudly from the shuttle outside the Senate building, a tidal wave strong enough to pierce through even the cacophony of signatures around them. It was an intense, burning thing; one that would be even better when the blaze of light had been twisted instead into a blaze of hate, scorching everything in its path.

Anakin’s Force-presence was-

It was not coming from Anakin.

No, much to Sidious’ dismay, it was extending out from the unusually cheerful disposition of one Jedi Master Kenobi. He strode down the ramp of the ship with purpose, almost _skipping_ before he was forced to stop by some unseen pain, wincing and grabbing at his side. Then, as quickly as the pain had come over him, it was gone. He smiled widely, waving a lazy salute.

Behind him trailed a rather exasperated-looking Senator Amidala (Sidious would have to have _words_ with Grievous later, how hard could it be to kill _one measly Senator_ that you _knew the exact location of_ you _idiot_ ) and-

By all appearances except that of the Force, it was Anakin. Luckily, the Force was not like other appearances; namely, that it could not truly lie. Hide oneself, cover oneself’s true intentions, yes, Sidious was well-acquainted with that technique; but in the end, the Force would reveal all.

Kenobi’s more muted, more tightly-held signature lingered around Anakin. And even if Sidious didn’t want to believe his senses, well. Kenobi’s annoying mark was all over the way he walked more stiffly and the polite smile he regarded the Chancellor with that could only be interpreted as a sign of distaste.

 _What the fuck_ , Sidious thought.

Anakin(?) pranced up to him, mood visibly brightening. “Chancellor Palpatine-”

Kenobi(???) materialized between them, wearing the blandest smile Sidious had ever seen on Anakin’s face. “I’m sorry, but we really can’t talk right now.”

Anakin(??????) poked his head out from behind Kenobi, glaring. “But I didn’t even say anything!”

Sidious opened his mouth to speak. “I-”

Kenobi’s signature grinned at him even as his eyes shot daggers at Anakin’s, as if daring him to challenge him. “Happy to report that Senator Amidala is safe, your Excellency. We really must be going, though. We have a _Council meeting_ , my _dear master_.”

Senator Amidala sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable.”

A clone—Anakin’s clone, if Sidious remembered right—grimaced at her, trying to shepherd Anakin-Kenobi back to the shuttle. “S _ir_ ,” he stage-whispered, as if that would somehow get Anakin to do something he didn’t want to do.

Another clone, one in gold and white, took a bite of a ration bar, watching. “My General doesn’t like politicians,” he said loudly, prompting a few odd looks from passing Senators. Anakin gestured frantically toward the Chancellor.

“But-”

“No,” Kenobi-Skywalker hissed, half-dragging him back. “Padmé got here _safely_ , now let’s go.”

“I want to talk to him!”

Sidious inclined his head. For once, he didn’t have to put on a front as he gave an utterly baffled smile. “Is everything alright? Master Kenobi, if you’d like to-”

“ _No_ ,” Kenobi-Skywalker all but shouted. “I- he doesn't.”

Anakin-Kenobi glared at him. “But what if he _does_.”

“He most definitely does _not!_ ”

“Well Anakin does!”

“Not _today_ , Anakin doesn’t! In any shape or form!”

The gold and white clone nudged Anakin’s clone—Rex, if Sidious remembered right. He forced his mouth not to curl with distaste; really, _dalliance_ with a clone wouldn’t do for a Sith apprentice. It just simply wouldn’t help to tell Anakin _no_ right now.

“Told you they were gonna screw it up,” the gold one told his likeness, Cory or Cordy or whatever his name was. Rex gave him a dirty look, hand clenched around Kenobi-but-actually-Anakin’s sleeve. The two Jedi were oblivious, caught up in…well, Sidious wasn’t exactly sure _what_ this argument was about, now.

“Master Kenobi, would you _please_ go to your Council meeting?”

“Only if you, _Anakin_ , will do things that Anakin does!”

“ _Anakin_ is _also_ going to the Council meeting.”

“ _Anakin_ is not going to any Council meetings.”

“He sure _is_.”

“Then _Master Kenobi_ is talking to the Chancellor.”

“Master Kenobi,” Anakin-but-actually-Kenobi grumbled, “Is about to kick his own ass. Repeatedly.”

“Not if _Anakin_ does first!”

Deciding that he really just didn’t want to deal with whatever the fuck this even was, Sidious smiled politely, slowly backing away. He cast a questioning look at Amidala; she rolled her eyes, curtsying quickly to the clones before signaling to the small crowd hovering nearby (trying to pretend they weren’t watching the small commotion in front of them).

The sound of their argument carried over the courtyard as, for once in his life, Sidious decided to run away from a problem and let someone else handle it.

* * *

“You’re telling me,” Ahsoka grumbled, “That you knew I was at the base the whole time?”

Plo sighed even as his eyes creased, the Force rippling around them with humor. “Do not feel ashamed, young one, when I tell you that you made a classic Padawan’s mistake—forgetting to turn off your comm’s location.”

Ahsoka blanched, smacking herself internally despite his reminder not to. “The location,” she reiterated.

Plo hummed. “Indeed. A bit of a right of passage for misbehaving Padawans, really. Master Kenobi has told me that it took mere months for Skywalker to figure it out and disable it—I had no doubt that you would learn it even sooner.” He half-chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Imagine my surprise when I run a routine check-in to make sure you’re where you’re supposed to be—only to find that you’re halfway across the galaxy. Not to mention that your communications were jammed. The Force strongly suggested I check on you in person.”

“Well…I guess it worked out. Still. Ugh.”

“In your defense, you seemed a bit…shall we say, _frazzled_.”

Ahsoka peeled her face off the table, slowly, grimacing at the artifact. “Yeah. Master Skywalker And Master Kenobi were being- uh…”

“Were being Kenobi and Skywalker?”

“…Yeah.”

“Oh, I believe you. I’ve plenty of firsthand experience myself,” he answered, an unusually dry note in his voice. “I wasn’t all that surprised to hear how they’d gotten into this mess.”

Ahsoka shifted in her seat, squinting at a far wall of the archives. “…About that,” she muttered, but before she could finish, Master Nu had floated a file over to them, grumbling.

“I’ve searched for _hours_ , but I couldn’t find anything like Skywalker’s rather _illuminating_ description of what happened,” she groused. “All I could find was this—the artifact described doesn’t work in _exactly_ the same function, but it seems similar to what you’ve got, there.”

Plo frowned, running a careful hand over the inscription of runes at the bottom of the artifact. “How so?”

“Well, the file says that for a swap to occur, there needs to be a tether that both presences are connected to. I don’t doubt Skywalker’s clumsiness, but it _is_ strange that he could somehow be both the tether and the untethered.”

“Well, Skywalker _does_ make his name in his uniqueness,” Plo replied, humor once again swirling around him. “Perhaps we can learn clues about our own case from this.”

Master Nu sighed, smiling at Ahsoka. “Best of luck to you.” Her expression darkened slightly as she looked at Plo, adopting, to Ahsoka’s surprise (and more than a little amusement, if she was honest), a _snarky_ tone. “And tell your _fellow Councilor_ that my archives are always open, for those who _respect_ them.”

Once she had left, Ahsoka leaned in conspiratorially. “What was _that_ all about?”

Plo rubbed at a temple; were his face available, Ahsoka was sure he’d be grimacing. “Obi-Wan dared suggest that the archives were incomplete, once. Let it be known that Master Nu _never_ forgets.” He examined the file, brow furrowing. “Now, let’s see if we can’t figure this out, before those two tear each other apart.”

“…Right.” Ahsoka chewed her lip.

“Something on your mind?”

“Other than the general weirdness?”

“Yes, young one."

“…It’s about who caused this whole mess. I have a confession to make.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more after this! thank y'all for reading this and all the comments! lol they make my day
> 
> no matter what universe, anakin and obi-wan find a way to be some of the most obnoxious bastards ever. really, you just have to love them for it


End file.
